Veela Heart
by tiggerjojo
Summary: The sequel to Veela Blood, this picks off shortly after Blood ended and follows Harry and Draco's continuing fight to remain together. Harry will do anything to make sure Draco comes to no harm even if that means removing himself from Draco's life. HD Sl
1. Crimson

**Veela Heart**

(a/n: Veela Heart takes place about 4-6 hours after Veela Blood ended. Thank you all for so much support, especially for story that was written so awkwardly. I'll try harder this time but it may be a while until I update so please, go easy on the death threats. Oh and first part of chapter one is a sex scene. Don't give me that look… So if you don't like that sort of thing please feel free to skip ahead.)

Chapter One: Crimson

Draco pov.

I arch my back into him, my soft cries fill the air around us; our bodies are slicked with sweat. Tears slip from my eyes at the unfamiliar pain from his penetration and yet I find pleasure in it as well.

He pauses, drawing my head up and kissing me deeply. I slip my hand through his hair, breath his scent, savoring his taste. He slides his hands along my thighs as he releases my mouth, pushing into me once more. I gasp and he pauses and asks me if I'm ok, if I want to continue. I nod, closing my eyes to the feeling of him as he rocks into me. I tense for a moment and he gasps, I open my eyes to see his watching me, his deep green eyes dilated with passion and deep within I find love where there was nothing before.

He smiles gently at me, his hand coming up to run across my lips. He tells me to relax as his hand slips down my neck. He alights over my nipples, gently stroking them, I gasp and force myself to relax.

He slowly begins again and his hand slips over my stiff member, moving in time with his thrusts. His other hand comes up to grip my shoulder, delving even deeply into me. I cry out as he pants for air, my body shudders and I encircle him with my arms and pull him closer to me. He says my name softly as he pulses inside of me. He shudders, "I'm close-I, I want us to come together," he whispers against my mouth.

I breathe him in, running my hands along his back and I can't find my mind. I smell the sex in the air, taste the sweet salt from out sweat, hear our sighs as we come together, I can feel his body and our link as it comes together, renewed.

I cry silently amid my throws of pleasure and pain. Pressure builds within me, begging for release and I tighten around him. He throws himself deeply into me as I am overwhelmed by the orgasm. I can feel him deep within me, I feel him fill me with his seed and I lose my ability to sense where I stop and he begins. We become a single entity.

He carefully pulls himself from me and leans down to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck and devour him, tasting vanilla.

He lets go, collapsing onto me and burying his head into my neck in hair he murmurs, "I love you."

"And I you ," I breath in reply.

He slides his hand along my cheek and I lean into him utterly and completely content. He rolls off of me to lays beside me and a short whimper escapes me involuntarily.

He laughs at me, "I didn't want to squish you and I'm not going anywhere."

I push myself up and shift over slightly to collapse partially on his chest, resting my head upon his shoulder. I let my eyes close, enjoying Harry's warmth and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. His arms encircle me, one wrapping around my waist while the other absently combs through my hair. I slide my hand up to where his heart rests and splay it there, covering it protectively.

"Mine." I whisper softly.

I can feel his smile even though I cannot see it and his love for me seems to multiply and fill the room.

"Yes, yours." He replies equally softly.

A moment of silence opens up and spreads comfortably around us; neither one of us wishes to break it but questions hang unanswered in the air.

"Dragon…" Harry starts hesitantly.

"Ummm?" I lift my head slightly and look at him questioningly, "What is it?"

"I don't know….I don't understand what I am, what I've become."

He pauses, frustrated at his inability to put into words what he wants to say, I wait patiently.

"I know that I'm now, a veela but other than that I don't know much about veela's and what I do know doesn't seem to be right…"

I nod slowly, "You're very different from any veela's I know and I'm afraid I don't know many. My parents were never particularly interested in me learning about my heritage."

"Your father is almost a full-blooded veela but your mother…she used to be a Black and as far as I could tell they don't have a drop of veela in them."

"I wondered about that too when I was little." I whisper, feeling a sudden drowsiness engulf me, I suppress a yawn, "My mother just told me a few years back. The Blacks have a very good wizarding heritage, always important to a Malfoy," my voice is heavy with sarcasm as I roll my eyes, "but the Blacks, as you said, had no veela in them and that was fairly important to the family until recently, I think my father just doesn't want anyone stronger than him around. Anyway," a yawn overtakes me and I smother it with one hand before going on, "they wanted veela and Black so they… arranged it. A veela from a powerful family coupled with the Black wife and bore my mother. The veela was killed almost immediately after Mother was born to protect the secret of her illegitimate birth. Mother was told by her mother and she told me."

"So your mother is half and your father is almost full-blooded so your around three fourths veela, yes?"

I nod, laying my head back down on his shoulder, my eyes falling shut.

"I'm probably around the same…I think." he murmurs more to himself than to me, "I still have a little human in me…If I was entirely veela I wonder how different I would be. Would I not be able to hold back at all? Perhaps, I would just become more violent, if that's even possible…"

"…It is," I sigh quietly, a shiver running through me at the assaulting memories from my childhood, "My father, such violence and anger runs everything he does. He controls it out around others. If he didn't he'd have been locked away long ago, as some veela's who can't control it are but in exchange for that outward control he…"

"He hurt you." Harry snarls quietly, tightening his grip on me slightly and through him I feel as it something far away is jerked, hard. Like twisting the chain of a dog to make sure the choke collar still hurts the animal attached to it. A distant almost imperceptible feeling of pain echoes down from that jerked line and slowly fades as Harry loosens his grip upon it.

I push myself up and look at him, shocked and curious by not just what I felt but also by the fact that I felt anything at all.

"What did you just do?" I ask.

His eyes widen slightly, "You felt that?"

I nod, "What was it?"

"Ah," He sighs and squirms a little, avoiding looking me in the eye, "That was your father."

"What?"

"I claimed him to my pack, chained his mind, I figured it would be the best way to stop him from doing anymore damage to, anything, most importantly us." he continues to look away, unhappily.

"What are you saying? I don't understand." I felt my brow furrow in confusion, my exhaustion eking away.

"How to explain…In that past," He began slowly as if to gather his thoughts, "when veela's had to fight to exist, they traveled in packs. The leader was the strongest called Cane and the weakest or those disliked by the Cane were referred to as Scemo. The fight to become Cane was one of the minds, a test of mental rather than physical strength. When your father blocked your memory I confronted him and I called him Scemo, I didn't even know what I was saying at the time and I called this knife to my hand, but that's another thing I don't know about. When I called him Scemo he became furious and I, I'm not sure what I even did then…This part of me, this horrible, violent veela part of myself…it was like I grabbed his mind, I think I could have killed him then, or at least his mind but he conceded to me, called me Cane and I took him into, into my pack. I chained his mind…if I choose I can see what he sees, be inside his mind, hurt him, kill him, possibly even control him…." His voice trails off and he continues to look away, afraid of my reaction.

I sit up, twisting away from Harry, looking across the room from the side of the bed, thinking.  
"Draco?" He quests softly, reaching out a cautious hand and touching my back. I feel his fingers ghost momentarily along the scars upon my back from the whips my father had employed upon me. I shudder and he flinches away.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be" I whisper as I turn back towards him.

I shift and kneel beside him, taking his head in my hands I press our foreheads together.

"Show me." I murmur.

He places his hands over mine and closes his eyes, I close mine as I focus upon what I can sense from him. I can feel him as he find the chain. I can feel it so strongly it's as if it's tangible, as if I can reach out and touch it. I can feel my father at the other end, cowering and shaking from the jerk of the chain. I knew that if I went any farther I could feel him as well, and see through his eyes but I withdrew. I didn't want to see anything of my father like that. This was good enough, to feel him in so much pain.

"Is that enough for you?" He asks quietly, placing his hands over mine.

I pull away slightly and smile down at him, knowing that if I asked it of him he would probably hurt him more, "Yes. This way he can never hurt anyone again. If he does, you'll stop him won't you?"

He grins wryly, "Of course. I was also thinking of bringing your mother into the pack. Right now she still belongs exclusively to your father…If I bring her into the pack than she will also belong to me and the well being of the pack…" His eyes look away at the far wall, lost in thought, "I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do. I don't like thinking like this, Draco. I don't like it. I'm not a veela. I can't control it. I think I must be missing something very important. I'm not sure I can handle it…"

I can say nothing because I am not sure he can either. Sometimes he scares me so much I can hardly stand it.

Harry lays down and pulls me down with him, sighing into my hair. His arms tighten around me and I wonder what sort of future we can have together in a world that doesn't want us together. When there is the constant tension of Harry's unreleased aggression. My eyes become heavy and I sink down into sleep wondering if I will die at the hands of the one person in this world I care about.

I wake slowly, a soft repetitive noise pulling me from my sleep. I open my eyes and glance over at the clock. It's nearly time to wake anyway. I turn off the alarm and roll over Harry's no longer beside me. I sit up and quickly scan the room. I see Harry standing next to a wall, his forehead pressing against the cool stone. The repetitive noise that woke me comes from the sound of his fist smashing into the wooden doorframe, over and over again.

I quickly push myself from the bed and run over to him but stop cold a foot from him. From here I can see the way the wood has caved into bowl, the wood splintering out all around the impression like many tiny spines. What really made me stop, though, was the blood that stained the impression and ran down the wall, soaking into the wood and staining it crimson.

"H-Harry?" I whisper, trying to swallow and finding my throat thick.

He stops and lifts his head from the wall, looking at me blankly then looking at his hand covered in blood.

"Harry, what are you doing?" My voice is trembling and I cannot stop it from doing so.

He shrugs slowly, "I don't know." His voice is shaking too but I suspect it is from the pain.

I reach out hesitantly and take his hand. The flesh of this knuckle has been peeled away and slivers of wood are imbedded deeply in the flesh of his hand. The muscle under the knuckles was so torn it and ripped. His entire fist is covered in blood, it runsdown his armand I am afraid that I can see the bone. My eyes begin to burn and ache and as I blink tears fall. They land on his torn hand; he flinches but doesn't pull away. Just as when Harry had healed me with a kiss, my tears seemed to have some healing abilities but not enough. I am nearly pure veela but I am not ancient veela. Whatever is left in me of the old magic is nearly gone.

I gently lead him to the bathroom and run his hand under the water, "I need to try and get out the slivers." I grab a pair of tweezers from the counter and begin methodically and carefully taking out as much as I can. All the while I keep crying, neither able to stop nor wanting too. Every tear that hit, healed a little bit more and slowly the bleeding stopped. I silently apply balm and wrap his hand with clean white gauze.

"Why, Harry?" I ask softly as I finish, letting go of his hand.

He reaches out and gently traces the side of my with his uninjured hand, "I didn't have a choice."

He looks away, his eyes are distant again and he walks out of the bath. I watch him in confusion and frustration. I wipe my eyes roughly and follow after him. He was pulling on his uniform and after a glance at the clock I quickly follow suit.

He's already leaving before I manage to gather my bag and I leave it behind running after him, "You should go to the hospital wing." He isn't listening to me, "Harry!"

He stops and turns back towards me with an impatient glare.

I stop short of running into him, "What's wrong with you?"

He sighs and reaches towards me hooking the collar he put on the day before with one finger, "Take this off and throw it away." He flicks it and pulls away walking off briskly without a single glance back.

Something is very wrong.

I slowly return to the room and collect my bag and parchment. Slowly I undo the collar and run my thumb over the tag and slip it into my pocket and after a moments pause quickly run after Harry.


	2. The Calling

Chapter Two: The Calling

That day only became stranger. Harry did not come to either breakfast of lunch. The house elves said that he had been in the kitchen both meals times and had taken his respite there. During his classes he went out of his way to ignore Draco, going as far as to skip his charms class, the only one that he had assigned seats and his was next to Draco's. Draco was frantic at first, taking every opportunity to speak with Harry; interrupting class and running after him in the halls. After a while he just quit trying. He seemed to fall into himself, lost in thought. He ate nothing at lunch or dinner. He simply sat at the very end of the Hufflepuff table and stared into space. He didn't bother to pursue Harry at dinner and Harry seemed to know he wouldn't, eating with his friends at Gyffindor.

Most were ecstatic about the two's sudden split but it quickly became apparent that nothing good would come of it. Harry's anger, for which he had no control over, caused him to abruptly leave classes and disappear for ten minutes to hours. He had been seen going outside but no one knew to where and he always came back with bruises and cuts on his fists. He seemed to agitated and listless, looking outside whenever he could. Draco on the other hand was quiet at first then he quit talking altogether, he also quit eating. He seemed intent upon not sleeping, spending his nights in the library in front of the fire. Yet, sleep can be evaded for only so long and periodically he would pass out or faint and have to be taken to the hospital wing. There they could give him some nutrients via IV but it wasn't enough. He was wasting away.

A week passed.

Draco Pov

"May I be excused, sir?" A voice rang out.

A lift my cheek from the table and look up. My whole body aches with hunger and fatigue but I can't sleep, I can't eat. Nightmares haunt my night vision, any food I eat comes right back up. I can't think and I cannot stop thinking. My head hurts so much I can hardly stand it. That is probably from the crying. It happens periodically, I have no control over it and don't care to. I want to lay my head back down and pretend that if I remain still long enough I will die. Then all the pain will stop. I can't help myself, it's his voice, I have to.

I can see his hand, his fingers digging deeply into the wood of the table. The table creeks ominously and those sitting next to him shift away as far as they can. His eyes are glinting in the dim light looking almost black.

Snape turns slowly, his eyes as cold as always perhaps even colder. He looks done his nose at Harry, a frown turning upon his mouth. I watch his hand slowly turn into a fist. I know his thoughts because he came to talk to me a few days ago. He's worried about me; everyone has managed some sort of sympathy for me by now though pity would be a better word. They don't understand, how could they? He understands more than most, he knows father. He hates how Harry is treating me; he knows that even abuse is better than abandonment to a true blood veela bond.

Yet I don't think that is it completely. My father once abandoned my mother for a month. She quit talking but that was about as similar as the symptoms were. She slept constantly and ate, though; she had to be forced to. She never shed a tear about the separation. I think what is happening now if far worse. No, it is too late to _think_ such things; I _know_ that it is wrong.

"The period is almost over, Potter. You can wait." Snape says coldly.

Harry's expression shifts slightly. He is thinking, probably evaluating the best way to get his way. He knows that violence will get him nowhere with Snape. Then a smirk appears on his lips and grows into a smile. He stands slowly and smoothly makes his way towards the door, moving like a cat silent, deadly and beautiful. Snape blocks the way, staring him down, daring him to try something.

"You would be wise to return to your seat, Mr. Potter."

"Ah, but I can't do that." Harry murmurs, his words coming out in a purr, sending shivers down the spine, "The moon will be rising soon and I need to be there."

I watch him and as I do I feel my gaze become fixed. The very air becomes think with scent that has no name other than lust. It takes me a moment longer than it should to realize that he is using the touch. Harry tilts his head slowly, never taking his eyes from Snape. I watch Snape's eyes as they dilate and glass over slightly. His breath is heavier than normal; his hands relax from their fists. Harry slowly splits his mouth, just slightly, his tongue slipping out and tracing his upper lip. Then he reaches out and with two fingers traces the line of Snape's jaw. As his fingers pull away Snape's, knees give out and he collapses on the ground. Harry steps around him and out the door.

I stand uncertainly and look from Snape to the door. Finally I give in to my instincts and desires and quickly follow Harry out the door. He's already out of sight but I know where he's headed and quickly follow the shortest route to outside. When he arrived at the door it was ajar. He slipped outside and slid along the outside of the door until he reached the wall.

Harry stood upon the smooth lawn, near the water's edge. His eyes were fixed upon the faint image of the moon appearing in the sky as the sun disappeared completely into the darkness. The sun disappeared quickly and soon they were enshrouded in dusty grey. The castle's lights came on and spread their color upon the lawn. The moon above seemed foreboding.

I slowly look down from the moon where my eyes had been fixed. Harry is looking at the forests edge. I follow his gaze. At first I see nothing then a slight movement then more. It seems that the entire edge of the forest moves. The movement materializes into figures walking towards Harry. A light breeze picks up from the forest and runs over me. I smell them at the back of my throat, veela.

They are all veela. There are at least fifty, perhaps more. They come towards Harry as if called to him, drawn to him. They are near now, and spread around him, encircling him but keeping an arms distance. The way they look him over is like a physical touch. I feel their minds upon him, pushing, testing and feeling. It is faint to me so to him it must be overwhelming but he shows no sign of strain. If anything he looks bemused by their attempts. As if tiring of their testing he pushs them away. The strength of his mind is overwhelming but delicate, careful not to harm them. They step back slightly.

Then they change tactics. The men step back and the women slip forward. They reach out and touch him, their charm and scent overwhelming even from this distance. Compared to Harry's, though, it is nothing. I am suddenly glad that he is the only one with hold over me.

I cannot see Harry's face clearly but I imagine the smirk he gives them as he waits patiently for them to stop. When they don't he touches back. His scent is subtle next to theirs but far more powerful. When he touches one of the women her knees give out like Snape's did.

They all step back except the one that had fallen. She is helped up and pulled back into the crowd. A female separates herself from the group; she had not joined the others in testing him. There is something strange about her that makes my skin crawl. She is the purest veela I have ever seen, her skin is so pale it could be white and her hair and eyes are pure silver. Her clothing is strange as well; it's so very simple in comparison to her beauty; just plain clothe colored cream. She wears a simple silver chain upon her brow and a belt upon her waist that holds two daggers.

She looks him up and down, her cold eyes reflecting no emotion but neither do Harry's. Her scent is strong but it also has no effect upon Harry. He mind is strong, too strong for Harry to break but not strong enough for him to overpower. Their minds press against each other for a moment. Then they break apart and stand back.

Harry purses his lips for a moment, "You are the Cane of this pack." It was not a question.

She nodded slowly, "We heard your call."

Harry's mouth twitches, "You did not all have to come."

"We didn't have a choice." her eyes narrow, "Why did you call us?"

"I also didn't have a choice. It just happened." He still seemed mildly amused by how he was being treated.

"We didn't think there was any pure blood left out in the world." Her hand went to her dagger handle.

Harry's eyes remained on her, "There wasn't."

She draws and the knife blade flashes silver for a split second then she strikes. My breath catches in my throat. Before the blade reaches its target, Harry's throat, his hand is there. A split moment after a blade materialized in his hand. The two blades connect the sound echoing out into the silent night. She reaches for her other blade but Harry grabs her hand and twists it violently behind her back, so hard that her shoulder dislocates. She cries out, the knife falls from her hand and she collapses onto the ground. She's crying but you can hardly tell, she's trying so hard to hide it. Harry puts his knife to her throat. None of the other veela's move to help her; veela's hold little loyalty for each other other than their…life partners.

Harry smiles gently but his grip tightens, she gasps, "I won't make you call me Cane nor Scemo," Harry says softly, "because I feel like we are very nearly equals but I need you to recognize that I am better than you. I really don't want to kill you." The way he said it was emotionless.

It reminds me of father. I shiver silently in the darkness.

She nods rapidly, she's biting her lip, her tears shimmering in the darkness, "I-I recognize that you-you're better, superior to m…me." She says it to the ground at her feet, her words slow and broken with pain.

He eases the blade away from her throat and roughly forced her arm back into its socket with a sickening pop. She looks faint but manages to remain conscious, sitting upon the ground heavily.

She looks up at him, her eyes wide and strained with pain, "So it has finally come to pass…" her words were a whisper over pale lips, "true blood has returned to us, come back to us. You will lead us, protect us and purify the veela race."

Harry's eyebrow raises just slightly under the cold silver light of the moon, his corner of his lip curls exposing the white of one of his canines, "Is that so?"

I shiver silently and wait for the woman to speak, I know Harry won't as surely as I know that I could not move if I wanted to.

Her eyes narrow slightly, "It is an old prophecy birthed when the veela's divided and those polluted ones, now recognized today, began to breed with humans. It promised us a leader that would rise from the masses and give us the strength that we lack."

Harry nods slowly and looks up at the full moon for a moment before looking back down upon her, "That's very interesting. I'm not sure if I'm the leader you are looking for…regardless this place doesn't have room for you and I have no plans to leave until the spring."

The Cane blinks at him slowly, "We will stay in the forest. I very much doubt we will require the leadership of a child at this point. When your time here has ended you will join us and I will teach you everything I know. When you are a man you will lead us. But…there is one thing you will give us now. You must give us your seed, true blood but be maintained, we cannot lose it again."

I feel lightheaded. I feel that I may both cry and yell in anger and frustration. I am not sure what hurts and scares me most. He has already left me but I thought perhaps there would be a way, some sort of way to work things out but he's leaving. He's going to disappear into these people and their world and abandon everything else. He's going to leave me behind. He's going to couple with these creatures and they will bear his children, something I could never do for him. Will he take another to act as his mate? He can never flesh claim another but that does not stop him from taking them.

Without realizing it my knees give out. The noise draws the attention of the group, the Cane hisses under her breath and snaps out an order. I feel two pairs of strong, thin hands grip my arms and pull me forward towards the cane and towards him.

"What is this?" the cane woman demands, her eyes narrowed.

A voice answers from the darkness, filled with venom, "Foul blood, impure."

I look up at Harry, even though I know what his face will reflect and I don't want to see it. I look up and he is looking down upon me with a complete lack of pity, a complete lack of any emotion. He shakes his head slowly as if he is disappointed with me.

The Cane is looking at Harry; "You know this?" she looks back down at me. Someone helps her to her feet; she cradles her arm to her chest.

Harry looks at her and nods shortly, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, "A mistake."

Her nose tightens and her lip curls, "He's marked with your scent…" her good hand snakes out and roughly yanks my head up, "and he's flesh claimed. Is this thing yours?" she pushes my head down brutally.

"As I said, a mistake." His voice belies nothing.

Tears sting my eyes as I desperately try to suppress them. I want to be strong. I want to be strong enough to stand by him like they do. Yet I can't and am even weaker than I have ever been in my entire life. I've become my mother. I try to draw myself up, to gather what is left of my dignity and catch Harry's eyes, forcing them to meet mine, "Will you forsake me? Will you pretend I don't exist?" I ask him quietly.

He seems to freeze but quickly take it to his heart, freezing it as well. He's doesn't even bother to answer me, giving me all the answers words alone could not have.

She, is watching me coldly for a moment there is no emotion on her face then she smiles coldly, a touch of pity and hatred in her eyes, "Poor little, poison blood," she runs her hand over my hair once like you would a dog, "you would do best to never come to us again or seek out or touch our pure blood. We don't want you to pollute his body or his mind you understand, or us for that matter. You're just too, dirty…If you do try to get near to us again we will kill you, understand?"

She doesn't wait for my reply, signaling to the two holding me. I nod anyway as they push me away back towards the doors of the castle. I catch a glimpse of the Cane woman wiping her hand off on another as I turn. Then I run into the castle. I don't look back because now I know.

I know what I have to do.


	3. Veluiciuos Drucounious

Chapter Three

I run to the door of dinning hall and peer inside, leaning heavily on the doorframe. My body is shaking even just from this small exertion. I take a deep breath and look over the faces in the dining hall once more. Not here. I make my way to the dungeons. I try to run but quickly stop, I'm just too weak to run. It takes me forever to reach the lower levels, when I do I make my way to Professor Snape's office and knock on his door.

"Come in." He snaps; his voice muffled by the door.

I ease the door open, sliding through a small opening into his office. Snape is standing facing the wall, his foot taps on the ground rapidly as if impatient or nervous and his office it a mess. It looks as though he simply snapped and flung the things from his desk to the floor.

"Professor…you weren't at the dining hall." I start, unsure how to ask him.

He turns quickly on the balls of his feet, "Draco…I'm glad to see you, after you had gone after him…I didn't know what to think." He seemed so stiff and uncomfortable with what he was trying to say, "…Besides, I couldn't show my face in there, not after what he did to me…." His face colors bright red but this time it's in fury, "in front of the entire class, that insolent brat and what he's doing ot you…it's unforgivable…" he mutters the last past, the red cooling from his cheeks and his face settling into disgust.

I draw on my courage, "I need your help with something."

His head drops sharply in a curt nod, "Anything."

I take a deep breath, "_Veluiciuos Drucounious_, I need you to help me make it."

His expression freezes, "That I cannot do. Don't ask me to make that potion. No one's ever survived it. It _will_ kill you."

My hands curl up in desperate frustration, "Harry survived it and if he managed it then I can too. I'm going to die anyway, what does it matter if it's one way rather than another. I'd rather die that way than slowly of starvation knowing I did nothing to get him back." I feel as if I am on the verge of tears again and I hate myself for it.

He is quiet, his face furrowing with thought, his fingers drum on empty air, "I don't like it," he mutters to himself then looks up, "I will help you on the condition that you take only a half dose, since you're already of veela blood it shouldn't require as much change and with only half strength it greatly increases the likelihood you'll survive in your weakened condition."

I breathe, realizing that before I had been holding it; hope wells in my throat, tight and painful. I nod quickly, unable to speak; I'll take anything over nothing.

He begins pacing, pulling a book from the one of shelves that line his walls. He flips through it for a moment then drops it on his desk and pulls another one down. This one seems to be the one he's looking for and he stops on a page and studies it intensely.

"How long does it take to prepare?" I ask fearing the answer, unable to even force myself to eat I wouldn't last more than a couple weeks unless they hospitalized me.

He doesn't even look up, "No time. The difficulty of the potion comes in not in a length of time but an absence of it. It must be made a under the light of a full moon and all the ingredients must be added in perfect sequence and timing within the five minutes before midnight and the five minutes after. Once it is complete the potion will foul in minutes. It must be taken immediately…We have to start preparing now. Midnight is only a couple hours away." His voice is grim but resolute.

I don't even have time to be shocked, I simply follow him into his stock room where he pulls down ten different bottles and pushes them into my arms before grabbing five more for himself. Then we return to his office and I am put to work crushing and slicing thing to a perfect constancy. The potion actually has measurements for every ingredient to the millimeter. We throw out countless amounts of expensive items without a second thought.

Then my arms are loaded up again and He leads me to the astronomy tower. At the top I am so physically exhausted I collapse into a chair and Snape sets up without me then disappears down the stairs. My eyes drift closed without my consent. I try to fight it but it overwhelms me.

Darkness in my mind I can feel him far away from me, as if he's pushed me to the far recesses of his mind so that he doesn't have to think about me. I can feel his thoughts, I am careful to not pry to only let what comes to me, to come. The last thing I want if for him to push me out.

He's so conflicted. His mind is slowly being consumed by instinct and impulses of the ancient veela's. I don't think he even aware of it. If he was I am certain he would fight it. Or perhaps he wouldn't. It occurs to me that he likely knows and he encourages the thoughts. Before he didn't know what to do but the instincts know. They will guide him; take the stress of choice from his mind. It is such a weak decision but understandable in a way.

He's thinking about what the pack of veela's said and to my horror, seriously considering it. He feels the pull of them on his mind and half of him desperately desires to give in, to surrendered the rest of his humanity.

Suddenly, he feels me, his anger is overwhelming and violent. He throws me from his mind and I jerk awake. As soon as I do a vial is pressed to my mouth. I take it hesitantly.

"Drink." Snape's cold voice demands.

I do as he says and once it is gone another vial is given to me that I also hurriedly down. I begin to feel effects immediately. The first potion must have been a strengthening or energy potion, a very powerful one. The other, _Veluiciuos Drucounious. _While the first for a moment gave me a jolt of energy, making feel better than I have in a long time the other quickly follows with crippling pain. It starts in my abdomen and spreads; it feels like barbed wire is being dragged through my veins, every breath is like breathing hot ash. I feel my body, far away as it falls to the floor, curling into a fetal position while crying out in pain. The pain grows stronger; moving out into the smallest reaches of my body, my skin burns, my eyes feels as if they are being torn from their sockets. Then the pain reaches my mind and carries with it thoughts, feeling and voices not my own. I can no longer feel my body.

I bolt awake, thrusting myself from wherever I had been. I scramble at the sheets binding me, damp with my sweat. Finally, unable to calm myself, to think, I simple tear at the sheet, ripping it down the middle. I stare at the sheet for a moment; it tore so easily, like paper.

I look down at my hands, they are still mine but they look stronger, the nails are thick and long, pointed. I touch them absently. Then I look up; I'm in the infirmary. Madam Pomphrey who must have been watching me before, quickly turns and disappears around a corner. I ignore her and walk over to a mirror. I survived, somehow, gods willing I survived. The face in the mirror isn't very different either, still mine, except the eyes. My eyes, once a dull grey-blue are now striking, shinning silver and have the look of liquid mercury.

A smile creeps onto my face as I watch myself and feel the greatest change, now filling my mind. Rage, horrid violent rage filters into me and begins to build at a frightening speed. No longer will I cow to him, and be his bitch. Now I know, as much I am his, he is mine and I don't want to share. I will not share and he will never treat me like he did again.

I turn from the mirror and start for the door, Snape appears, carrying a vial and followed by Pomphery.

"How long has it been?" I snap, trying to bind my anger.

Snape looks me over, his eyes narrowing for a moment, then he nods, "Three days. You'll need this." He hands me a potion. I recognize it as the same he gave me before _Veluiciuos Drucounious._ I take it from his hand and down it, handing it back to him .

Pomphery, looks at the vial then up at Snape, "Is that, oh dear, it isn't is it? That potion is illegal; it's far too strong for him."

Snape spares her only a momentary glance with a sneer, "He'll need it, trust me."

"Thank you." I say curtly, as a last moment thought as I push past them.

I can feel the night outside; I can feel Harry as well. He two floors below and he is preparing to leave, with them. I snarl silently and quickly make my way to the main hall, if he thinks he's leaving he is very mistaken. The night air bites sharply as I slip outside, there is a debt I owe to a certain she bitch that will be repaid, tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I call her out, I want her in the open where there's more room and the moon will provide some fragile amount of light. I wait by the lakes edge wondering silently why I am able to do these things. Why I am able to call with my mind, without a moments hesitation or thought, how I can feel Harry and the other veela's. It's so confusing, now I know what it's like and how Harry feels, at least a little. The water looks like the sky. "Who are you? You're not the true blood." She sounds apprehensive and angry.

I look down at my hand, my strange long fingernails catching the light. I think for a moment that I should attempt to call a knife to my hand as Harry did but I don't think I need it.

I turn to her, "Don't you remember me? I think you called me a foul blood last time we met."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly but that is the only sign of recognitions she gives.

I feel apprehensive and despite the hatred that boils through my blood I keep my expression blank other than a slight frown. I watch her eyes look me over, sizing me up. I run my thumb across my nails slowly to reassure myself.

I catch her eyes and force them back up to mine, "I came to tell you to stay away from my mate. You get your 'seed' elsewhere" I snarl the word. Even the thought of Harry touching anyone of these creatures fouls my stomach, "Let the true blood die out. It's no longer suited for this world."

Her eyes narrow and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. I watch her closely, feel her. It's her mind that she attacks with first pressing down on my mind with brutal force before I have time to realize what's happening. I hold on and push back, not bothering to restrain myself. At first there is resistance, but I press harder and as I do I can feel the first touches of her thoughts, anger, hatred and confusion. I know that feeling her thoughts means I entered the first barrier of her mind. I debate with myself for a moment whether or not to kill her and break down through another barrier, then another. I can feel her center and I encircle it, none too gently.

"Mateless, emotionless bitch." I snarl, holding my grip tight. I smile at her prone form on the ground, twitching and whimpering in pain.

"I concede." I hear her whisper on a wavering voice, "He's yours just let me go…"

I know those aren't the proper words of concession to one more powerful. They're similar to what she said to Harry but she doesn't mean them. Then again I know that she never will. I am submissive and she is dominate; she could never say what went against her nature with full feeling. Besides that, not being dominate I cannot bind minds to mine and killing her would cause more trouble for me than it's worth. I quickly free my mind for hers and close my own mind ready for what will come next.

For a moment she simply lays on the ground but within the space of a breath she pushes herself up reaching for her knives. I manage to grab one of her wrists, trapping the blade in its sheath but not the other. It slips my grasp and she lunges for my throat. I twist myself away, ducking behind arm I grabbed before and pulling it with me. I twist it up and behind her back. She cries out and drops the blades; I grin at the sound, like music to my ears. I blink once on surprise, my cheek stings and begins to throb with pain. I touch it with my free hand and my fingertips come away with blood. She cut me.

I jerk her legs out from under her and roughly shove her to the ground, sitting on her back. I take her arm in both hands and twist it until I hear the grinding, snapping crunch of the bone breaking. Then I jerk upward, bracing on her back until the arm dislocates from the shoulder. Slowly, I stumble up and away from her, breathing heavily and feeling drained; most of the rage dissipating. She's still screaming; part of me remembers that she has been screaming the whole time.

Her face is turned ugly by her pain and hatred. She is slowly heaved up by two or three of her followers. Somehow, through her pain she has remain conscious though very pale. I admire her for that.

She snarls at me through her whimpers and even through all I have done to her she is still unable to hold her tongue, "You stupid little bitch, you need to learn your place." She hisses.

I hit her face hard, raking it with my nails leaving behind four deep trenches of blood and flesh. I turn my head slightly a soft smile on my lips as I admire the vividness of the colors, the blood as it mixes with tears and drips down pieces of flesh still attached. I flick my hand absently to free it of blood and flesh and consider for a moment tasting it. Then reject the thought; the last thing I want is the taste of her blood lingering in my mouth.

"Bitch I may be but I am not yours." I tell her shortly and wonder if I will have to kill her after all. She has turned out to be far more stupid and thickheaded than I could have imagined. "I want you to leave this place. If you ever try to contact me or mine again I will kill you." I press sharply on her mind, barriers destroyed by pain.

She flinches away, biting through her lip to keep from crying out.

I watch emotionlessly, prepared to harm her again if need be. Yet, at the same time I feel sick for what I have done. I hold onto that feeling and the self-disgust as proof I still have human in me. No matter how sick I may feel my elation overpowers it, elation at my empowerment. I feel a little like my old self again.

"Never." She spits blood and saliva at me; it falls in the grass at my feet.

I raise my hand to hit her again but freeze, a cold shiver running down my spine. Silent footsteps, a strong hand grips my wrist and slow pulls it down. I take short breath and turn my head to look at who holds me, though I already know.

Harry watches me; I take small comfort that those green depths are not as cold to me as before but the change is very small. I may very well be imagining it.

His voice, as he asks, "What's going on here?" reveals what his eyes and face did not. Anger.


	5. Chapter 5

(a/n: Please forgive me for the tardiness of this chapter, I have just returned from a three week trip in the Philippines and the village I was working in barely had electricity. I tried to get this up as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience.)

Chapter Five

His eyes look from her, taking in her injuries, to me and the blood on my hand. As he looks at me his eyes slowly narrow and his mouth turns down in frown of what can only be disgust. I snarl and return the glare, my softening feelings instantly dissipate. I wrench my wrist out of his grasp and slap him both mentally and physically as hard as I can. He blinks slowly, his eyes widening in surprise as he touches his cheek, stinging and starting to turn red.

"You have to earn the right to touch me again." I snap stepping away from him.

The female lifts her trembling voice to interrupt, "Leave this boy to me. Let me kill him."

My eyes widen with shock, has her pride no limits? I cannot physically attack her without leaving myself venerable so I attack her mind and break part of it as I broke her arm. She pauses, her eyes blinking rapidly and she looks at me in abject confusion, tears beginning to pour down her face unheeded, "What have you done?"

A smirk manages to find it way back onto my face even though I am far too ill at ease for any type of humor, "I've permanently disrupted the part of your mind that is essential for life bonding and bearing kin."

To this she loses her tongue and simply collapses into herself, her body going limp and her eyes closing. I knew, from seeing her inner mind, of all the things she desired most a mate and children were the highest. So I hit her where it would hurt the most; even though I knew the cruelty of my action would haunt me for the rest of my life. But, I also know from her own mind that many years in her past she found her mate, her true life mate, but he was impure blood and she refused to bond with him. So he killed himself and since then she may have well been dead.

The other veela of the group looked at each other warily, finally all eyes rest on a young male veela to one side. He is not nearly the strength of the woman, but he is next in line. He looks at the faces in the silent group, now his pack, then to Harry and finally to me.

He tilts his head to me; the angle so slight it could be easily missed but I don't. This is the most in respect he can give me without angering the others in the group. I bow to him, not low but curt and short; more than he probably deserves. He eyes show the recognition his face does not. He looks then to Harry and bows slightly, respect given but not as much as I gave him, the delicate balance.

"We will be leaving now." He said softly, his voice soft with youth, "If you wish to call us again, both of your calls will be necessary… he pauses in thought, picking his next words carefully, "Our kind is weak enough without anymore unnecessary blood-shed."

Harry's expression is blank but cold; he nods shortly to show understanding. So close to him, even with his mind closed I can feel his confusion; so many unasked questions. I give no sign of understanding because as far as I'm concerned no calls will ever be made. The young man takes in each response in kind, inclines his head slightly and turns upon his heel; the group splitting before him and closing behind, following him back into the forest. For first time I feel the overwhelming collective fear upon the group. They never wanted to come here. They were not foolish enough to tempt a true blood's fury.

We are both silent as we watch them go, neither of us moving. We wait even after they have disappeared into the darkness of the forest because we can still feel them, their fear and tension. I think that they know what may happen.

Despite my fear and anxiety my breathing is slow and calm, the coolness of the night hides the fever running through me. I concentrate on breathing and reinforcing my mental walls. I'm not ready for that, not yet. I'm still angry with him but that feeling is quickly mixing with pain. It's not physical, physical pain doesn't hurt as much as this.

He speaks first, his voice filled with hesitation, laced with anger and confusion, "…explain to me what just happened, what happened to you." He still won't look me in the eye.

I don't take kindly to what was obviously a demand rather than a request and I begin to resent him again, "Why did you abandon me?" I ask quietly, angrily. I watch his eyes, trying to force him to look at me.

His eyes narrow, "That's not what I asked you."

I snarl and force myself not to lash out at him. "It's what I asked you and you'll answer it." I hiss at him between my teeth.

His expression darkens further and he turns completely away from me, "I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't know how not too."

"So you choose the most painful way possible." I snap coldly.

"Would you have preferred that had I beat you to death!" ,He snarls back, whipping around towards me. His fists are clenched and shaking whether with the desire to hit me or resisting to do just that I can't tell.

"Yes," I whisper, looking straight into his eyes.

His eyes widen and he grabs my chin pulling it up to look at me closer. I jerk my chin away but keep my eyes on him. His eyes reflect a growing confusion that I felt no real desire to ease. I couldn't stop the feeling of despondency that settles on me as I realize that he hadn't felt my change. I shake my head slowly, had he shut me out that completely? A sudden sting on my cheek reminds me of the cut the woman gave me. I look down at my hand then hesitantly lick my two fingers and run it over the cut. After a moment the stinging disappears, the wound heels.

I can feel his anger dissipating, "How…how did this happen?…" He looks like he wants to touch my cheek but pulls back, remembering my words from before.

I somehow force a silence among my warring emotions and keep my face calm as I answer, "The same way it happened to you. It was my choice."

He looks torn and bites his lip, "It could have killed you…why would you take such a risk?"

My lips twitch into a slight smile, "For you, dumbshit. I wasn't going to lose you just because I was too weak." I shake my head in disbelief, "Did you really think I was going to just die off without a fight? I won't share you with anyone. You have a lot to make up to me."

His brows draw together and he looks at the ground, "….I still don't want to hurt you."

I can't help but look at him as if he is a complete idiot. I find myself speaking without considering my words, feeling as tactless as I was before being claimed, "What exactly are you missing here? We're going to fight and hurt each other; it's part of what we are now, only now I can handle it. That was the whole point of what I did. You're going to have to get over that damn sentimentality. You used to try and beat the crap out of me all through our years in school why is it any different now?" My words were sharp and impatient.

I see a spark of anger in his eyes and felt the overwhelming urge to fan it, to provoke him and prove to him that I don't need to be treated like a sheet of glass.

The anger in his eyes edged onto his face and into his words, "But that was then, now you're something precious to me."

"That's not going to change just because we fight." I snap, "Would you rather let it build and snap and hurt yourself? Your friends? We're stronger; we can heal faster with less pain. Don't be an idiot….and if I really was precious to you you would treat me like it." I snarl the last, internally I wincing at the harshness of my words.

His knuckles are white and his whole body is shaking slightly with anger and his eyes are locked on the ground and he says nothing. I can feel how desperately he is trying to just remain still.

"Just shut up and leave." He hisses through his teeth.

I lift an eyebrow and remain where I am, "We're not done yet. I'm not leaving until this is resolved."

Harry's hand lashes out, clamping over my mouth, "I said shut up and-"

But he wasn't able to finishes his words because I grab his hand and bite down on it as hard as I can. He instantly rips his hand away his other arm arcing out and grabbing my arm. His grip is so tight I involuntarily cry out. Unable to reach him I lash out at his mind hitting hard and fast before locking back away behind my barriers. His grip falters and he flinches from the blow; just enough for me to pull free. Even as I pull away and step back he strikes back out to grab me. I jerk to one side, back and away from him. His hand changes to a fist and catches me in the side and I fall back. I ignore the pain, throwing my weight forward to keep from falling, burying my claws into the soft earth of the lawn. I push off from there, racing back towards Harry low and fast. He widens his stance, fists clenched and eyes glittering with rage and the exhilaration of the fight.

I feel it as well. This fight may have started with anger but it has changed into a game. This is the stretching of our power. In the past these sparring matches were practice for life and death. It's not something that can be ignored but it can be pleasurable as well and we are tied two for two.

I wait until I am close to him, almost upon him, and hit his mind again as I swerve around him. I can feel his mind falter again and in that moment I swing around, hooking my elbow around his neck and swinging onto his back. Arms around his neck I tighten the pressure against his throat. He snarls and grabs one of my legs from behind jerking towards him, his fingers cutting into my flesh. His pull catches me off guard and I slip. Instinct takes over and I dig my nails into his chest to hold myself up. He pulls harder and the fabric of his shirt rips and my nails bite into flesh and drag, the whole of my body weight on his skin. I can feel the heat of his blood against the pads of my fingers.

He lashes out mentally but my mind holds strong and I dig in harder causing him to cry out. He lets go of my leg grabbing my arms hard and in one sudden move throws his head down towards his knees flinging me over his head. My back hits the ground hard, knocking the air from me and I gasp weakly in an attempt to reclaim it. Before I can recover myself he's straddled my waist pinning my arms above my head. I struggle against him for a moment but I'm securely trapped and physically weaker. So instead I hit his mind. For a moment his barriers hold strong, more prepared after the first two assaults I hit him, with but not enough. I meet him, strength for strength then for a moment I pull back and he wavers and I hit him with all I have cutting through his barriers like they're tissue paper. He lets go of my wrists and rolls off onto the grass.

"You win." He says between deep heavy breaths, I can hear the smile on his lips just from his words.

I feel a weight lifted from my chest as well. I roll over and straddle Harry's waist, straining my face to make it appear serious, "We're going to have to work on your mental barriers, they're pathetic."

He laughs, "Yes, but it's only you that I have to worry about it."

I can't help but smile at him, "I guess so. Besides, if you get as strong mentally as you are physically I'd never be able to beat you."

He reaches up then stops, "Can I touch you?" looking hesitant.

I nod slowly; I don't want to fight anymore, "Yeah."

"You're so strong." He touches my cheek then pulls away, "….I'm so sorry, Draco. I was such a fool."

Despite myself my eyes begin to ache and blur with tears. After just having proven myself strong, I desperately try to hold them back but it's all I can do just to keep from completely breaking down. A lifetime worth of sorrow overflowing in this one moment.

I can only whisper, "It hurt so much, Harry."

His eyes reflect a deep sorrow that I haven't seen since that night he first lost control. He wipes my eyes free of tears with his thumb, "Punish me. Anything you wish, please." Such stupid words but he says them as if they represent the greatest, most desperate desire he has ever dared to have.

I bite my lip in thought but there is only one thing I could do in punishment to him that would be fair, so I say to him, "Open your mind to me. I want you to know how I felt, how it felt to be abandoned so that you will never dare to do it again."

He nods and within a bare moment he opens his defenses to me. I show him those memories and the pain but before long I can no longer stand to experience them again myself. So I leave him with my pain and allow myself to move through his mind, now unguarded. I search for his memories of the time since he left me but of the whole time, over a week of days there is nothing but a haze, a collage of images and scattered conversations. There are bits of learning from the classes he went to, the discussion with the she-bitch and the rest is chaos. He simply shut himself down to avoid the reality and pain he was causing me. I don't know how he did it, nor do I think he knew but I knew in that moment that if I had been able to shut down like that I would have as well.

I gently draw from his mind and look at him as he relives my memories and cries my tears caused by his pain. I feel that perhaps I shouldn't have done that to him but I don't know what else I would have done. Because nothing would ever be enough but having him back might fade the memory. That might just be enough and just perhaps it would make us stronger. I look down, my eyes unfocusing on the darkness of his skin blending into the grass now black as the edge of twilight.

I come back to myself as his arms encircle me and hold me tight Now it is my turn to dry his eyes as he presses them into my shirt.

"Thank you." I tell him softly, into the shell of his ear so close to my lips.

He pulls back slightly and looks to me, his eyes catching the light of the stars making them seem incredibly surreal, "What could I have ever done to deserve thanks? I have caused you only pain."

I smile gently, the moon casts a kindly light, "You have come back to me, you have shared my pain and eased it. There are so many other things like hopes and dreams and the special way you smile when you see me that you give to no one else."

He smiles just slightly, "Thank you."

I look at him with confusion, "For what?"

"The same thing you thanked me for. Especially that smile."

"Love makes fools of us all." I place my hand upon his chest and recoil at the feel of wet heat. I look down, "Your chest is still bleeding. Lay back, being up like this is only making it worse."

He looks down at the blood with mild surprise as if he had forgotten about it. After a moment of contemplation he obediently lays back, "You've become more forceful like you used to be, before I claimed you."

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask him through my hair, wondering it his answer will prompt me to hit him or kiss him.

He slowly shakes his head, "No, I like it. It didn't seem right before, it just wasn't you to be so docile."

I smile, his answer making me far happier than it should have. I lean over his chest and gently draw my tongue the deep bloody gashes. The bitter-sweet, coppery taste of his blood fills my mouth.

His hand rests on my shoulder, squeezing gently "Ah, don't do that…"

I lift my head for a moment, looking up at him, "Why?"

He grits his teeth, "It makes me want you."

My breath catches, I want him as well, "Let me finish healing you first."

"Be fast." His eyes seem to burn right through me and his grip tightens.

I shiver, lowering my head and finishing my work as he becomes hard beneath me. Before I can finish the last he sits up and pushes me back onto the ground. Straddled over me he kisses me with hungry desire. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him tighter to me. I slip my tongue into his mouth and he sucks it gently seeming to pull the very breath from me. His hands rip at my shirt, ripping it open and running his hand over my flesh, hot with want and shivering from the cold night air. I whisper his name as he kisses down my neck, nipping at the flesh near my collarbone.

Suddenly, we are covered in light and Harry startles back. I cover my eyes, then a shadow falls over us and drop my hands and look up. Professor Dumbledore and Snape look down upon us. Their wands are drawn and pointing, at Harry.

It takes me a moment to realize why. The last week immediately comes to mind and his past cruelties before he left me. And now I am lying, back to the earth with Harry over me, our clothing ripped and covered in dirt and blood.

Professor Dumbledore's wand twitches and his eyebrows drop in disappointment "Harry, slowly stand and back away from the boy. I'm sorry but, we're going to have to take steps…for the safety of everyone."

I look up at Snape and he slowly shakes his head, his eyes dark. That look tells me the one thing I dread, he has told Dumbledore everything.

My head slowly begins to shake in shear overwhelming disbelief and new deepening despair, and the words slip out without heed"….no, this can't be happening…"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

-Love is not easy. Love is something you have to fight for, work for. Those that expect love to come easy will never find it-

I feel lightheaded; I force myself to breath then push myself into a sitting position. I look up at Harry directly in front of me. I can feel their wands pointing at my back and I twist around to look behind me. Snape's wand drops and he slowly puts it away.

Dumbledore never wavers, "Move, Mr. Malfoy."

I shake my head and grab Harry's hand and squeeze it, he holds mine tightly back, "I won't lose him again, never again."

"Move."

I glare at him violently, "No!"

Harry wraps an arm around me and pulls me closer. We push up onto our knees slowly, watching both of the teachers warily.

"No." Harry says coldly, echoing my words.

Dumbledore's wand never wavers, "We were planning to wait until the separation took enough a toll that you would consent but apparently Professor Snape has done something…which of course will make it even harder to solve the problem."

My eyes widen, "Problem?" I say in disbelief, "We are not a problem!"

The Headmaster frowns and sighs, looking at us a sadly, "I know you don't understand, you can't possibly with such an intense connection. You're killing each other. The last week alone is evidence enough."

The look in his eyes, the tone of voice; he pities us. There's nothing that can change his mind now. I open my mind and pull at Harry's and he instantly joins me. We speak but it lasts no more than a split second.

_We can kill him, _I say

_If we have to. _He replies

_Can we block the spells?_

_The weak ones._

_What do we do?_

_Run._

_Run. And don't look back._

_Ready?_

_Ready._

_Now!_

Harry moves first and I follow. I'm not as strong as him but he pulls me behind. Dumbledore is shocked but only for a moment. Harry veers to the side, the first spell flashes past. As fast as we are going the forest is still too far away and Snape has drawn his wand once more. I smash one of the spells after us, we doge the other. My lungs are burning, I'm exhausted after the fight, Harry must be too but he pulls me even faster. I push myself. We have to make it. I try to focus on energy behind me but my body hurts and my lungs burn. I lash out blindly at the spells coming at us. I feel them splinter, both, but I used too much energy on the reckless move. I won't be able to do another. I can hear Harry's breathing now, heavy and becoming ragged. We're going slower now. The forest is so close.

Harry pulls me away but it's not fast enough. The spell hits my legs and they instantly go numb and give out under me. I try to catch myself on my hands but we were going too fast and I skid across the grass, pain shooting along my hands, arm and side. I look up to see Harry, ducking under a spell and digging into the ground running back to me. I push myself up on my hands, ignoring the pain and try to pull myself towards him. When he reaches me he tries to lift me but his hands slip.

"Just leave me." I say between gasping breaths.

He shakes his head and swallows, "No."

"You can come back for me later!" I yell at him desperately.

"No!" He tries again to pick me up but only manages to pull me closer to him.

I cling to him. I feel like this time might be the time I finally lose him. After everything we've been through, all the shit and then being pulled apart by those that are supposed to be on our side. If only they could understand.

"I don't want to lose you again." I whisper to him.

There is a flash of blue and Harry lets out a cry. He falls over, his arms and legs snapping together. I fall with him, trying not to cry. I worked so hard to become stronger so that I wouldn't cry.

"I love you." Harry whispers, "nothing can ever change that."

I smile weakly, "I love you, too, so much…" and press my cheek against his chest.

What light there was disappears. I don't have to look up to know it's them standing over us. I want my last moment to be spent listening to his heart, so calm now. I feel ropes tightly bind my whole body and I am rolled away from Harry; a potion pours down my throat. A hand presses over my mouth and pinches my nose but it's not necessary, I've given up. I swallow without a fight and quickly fall asleep.

There is darkness punctuated by moments of pain. The darkness is so long and as time passes it becomes deeper, cold and empty.

…….

A soft far away feeling of pain on my arm, I slowly open my eyes. Again the pain, someone is pinching my wrist.

"Stop." I say softly, flicking the hand away.

"Good, you're finally awake." The voice sounds familiar; I know it. It takes me a moment to connect the sound of the voice to a person, Professor Snape. I slowly sit up and look around. I'm in the infirmary. I search my memory but I can't remember how I got here. What happened to me? I glance over at a calendar pinned on the wall. The last I remember is boarding the train to school then…? Now it's over three weeks later.

"What happened?" I whisper to myself.

Snape's dark figure crosses the corner of my vision, "The Headmaster will be here shortly to explain everything."

I nod slowly. The sound of his voice…why does it scare me? The idea of the Headmaster scares me even more, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I suppress a shiver. These feelings are all wrong. Why would I be afraid of them? They haven't done anything to me…? Have they?

I close my eyes and desperately search my memories but there is nothing, just a big blank. How can over three weeks just disappear? Was I in a coma? If I was, wouldn't Father be here when I woke? Wouldn't more people care if I woke up?

My emotions feel wrong too. I feel as if I might break at any moment. There is something missing. I can't…I don't know what. Something important. My chest aches; it feels so heavy and tight yet empty. What has happened to me?

My thoughts stop at the sound of footsteps and the fear instantly returns with alarming speed. I force myself to look up. It's the Headmaster, I knew it was just by his footsteps. I can't stop the shiver this time. He smiles warmly as if nothing in the world is wrong but it feels as if everything in the world is wrong. How can he look so calm?

"I know you must be a little confused but you needn't worry." He says warmly, "There was a little accident on the train over here. We weren't able to get to you in time. This was, unfortunately, our fault as we failed to realize the seriousness of the situation when we were first presented with it. It also took quite a bit of time to heal as you may have noticed."

I nod silently wondering why it feels like everything they're telling me is a lie.

Dumbledore's manner shifts subtlety. His warmth seems to stall and he focuses on me intensely, studying my face. His scrutiny makes me uncomfortable and I look away.

"Do you remember anything after the train?" He asks slowly.

I shake my head, "Nothing, should I?" I sneak a glance over at him.

He suddenly laughs, his manner retuning to what it was before but I no longer trust it, "No, that's perfectly alright, it's consistent with our other…case."

I look at him but instantly drop my eyes from his face and lock them slightly to the side, "It happened to someone else? What…what happened exactly?" I ask carefully, quietly. Part of me regards him with the wariness of prey to predator. It's a strange part that I don't recognize.

Dumbledore nods slowly, "To be honest we're not even sure exactly what happened to you. It's going to affect the rest of your life, I'm afraid…The school will cover all costs, of course."

"It happened to someone else?" I ask again.

"One other, he was…in the same compartment as you…"

Snape shifts closer, holding out a small paper cup to me. I take it hesitantly and look inside. There are three pills, one small and white, the other are gelled potion pills, one blue, the other black. I look up at Snape.

He glances at me only for a split moment then away as if he's afraid to look me in the eye, "You'll have to take those at every meal…for the rest of your life." His voice is low but not quite normal but I can't place what it wrong.

I look back down at the pills as a glass of water is placed in my unresisting hands.

"I am told that to neglect them will most likely result in indescribable pain." Dumbledore says, his voice low and solemn. Trying to break it to me gently, I suppose.

I take the pills, trying not to think about it. I can feel them hit my stomach; they burn momentarily then the feeling passes. I take a slowly breath and frown. It's strange; I can feel the pills working. The heaviness increases, and the pain in my chest deepening. I force my expression to neutral. It's not like me to show so much emotion. When did it become so easy to show emotion without thought or hesitation?

"Come." Snape gestures me to follow him, Dumbledore following in step.

I carefully stand up and follow them, I feel a little weak but it seems strange that I'm not weaker. Someone in a coma for three weeks would become extremely weak wouldn't they? Even if they were feeding them through a tube…

There are three divider screens. In between the first two screens is a hospital bed; a desk is next to it with a chair and a stack of textbooks.

Snape stops in front of the bed, "You'll be staying here for the next week or two. Hopefully you'll be caught up with your school work by then."

I look at him in confusion, "Couldn't I do that back in my own dorm?"

Dumbledore steps forward, looking out the window, "We have to keep you under observation as well. We want to make sure you're entirely healed."

He paused and I notice someone move out behind him, the other person expertly blocked by the two Professors. Dumbledore glances over his shoulder and steps aside; gently guiding him forward.

"Who is this?" He asks in that same gentle, quiet voice.

The name is thick in my throat. My mouths open just slightly but no noise comes out. I close my mouth and swallow once, hard and force the name, "Potter." It doesn't feel right, comes soft off my lips. He doesn't look right either. He's much more beautiful than I ever remember him being but that's not what I find strange. It's his hair, the same messy black but it's not right. I notice a black stain on his right temple. Why would anyone dye black hair black?

Dumbledore looks at him, "Who is this, Harry?"

He looks at me and blinks once, "Malfoy." He replies, his voice quiet.

"Do either of you remember how you came to be in the same compartment together?"

I shake my head.

"No." Potter says softly.

How did we end up in a compartment together? What happened in there? Did we do this to each other? Did we fight? Was it a spell backlash? But that doesn't explain everything. My thoughts slow and stall. Why am I staring at Potter? Why don't I want to look away?

"Will you be alright, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asks kindly.

I nod and force my gaze towards Dumbledore, "Yes, I think so…" I walk over to my bed for the coming weeks and sit on the edge.

"Yes, It would be best for you to rest for today. There's a lot to absorb." Dumbledore's voice fades as he steps back, "Your studies shall begin first thing in the morning."

I listen to their steps as they slowly fade away. It's not until they've disappeared that I am finally able to relax. It is not until they've gone that I realize how tense I was.

"Hey," Potter's voice calls through the screen softly, "Does any of this make sense to you?"

The pain in my chest sharpens at the sound of his voice, so sharp that my eyes blur with sudden, unbidden tears, "No." Nothing makes sense anymore.

"There are too many things that just don't fit."

I cover my face with my hands and press them hard, laying down on my side on the stiff bed. I hope that my silence will give Potter the hint that I don't want to talk. I doubt it or at least that's what I tell myself. It goes against all reason but I get the feeling that perhaps he will understand.

Silence. It spreads and lengthens and the pain that I felt from his voice fades, changing into a different kind of pain; even worse. This pain is so deep and so empty. I can't sleep even though that is what I want most right now. Perhaps if I could just sleep it wouldn't hurt so much. So many questions disturb my thoughts. I just wish I knew what was wrong with me.

I push myself up and walk over to the mirror hanging on the far wall. I rub my eyes and look again. The image is the same as it always was but I feel unnerved by the reflection. My hand drifts up and I rub my neck, The skin is the same; smooth, pale and white. It feels like something very important is missing. It is like looking at Potter. Everything's the same as I remember but it's all wrong. I turn away, my eyes catching sight of Potter and I pause. He's watching me, his eyes seeming to draw me in. I can't seem to help myself and just stare back. I'm not sure how long I stand there, unable to look away. Then a hand gently taps my shoulder and hands me another cup of pills. The tap startles me, enough to cause me to look away. I don't bother to look at who has given me the cup and return to my bed with them. There are four this time. I hope that one of them contains sleeping potion and quickly take them. Within a few moments I start to feel drowsy.

I drift off to the image of Potter's eyes, burned into my memory.

After that our days fell into a routine. We were woken up at seven, given our pills and a half hour for breakfast and to change into fresh clothes. Then there were lectures and studies until noon; a half an hour for lunch, pills, and then return to work until six for dinner. The workload was overwhelming but it was a welcome distraction from the empty feeling. The young lady that taught us was apparently fresh out of school and this was her first teaching opportunity. This what she said but how she acted was completely different. She was a good teacher and seemed to know a lot but she was also very cold and impatient. She was also under strict instruction to lecture Potter and I separately. If we needed additional help she would come to our desks personally. The nurses, there were three, that he had never seen before in the infirmary; also seemed intent on keeping me isolated.

The nurses never talked to us; they just watched. Watching me as if expecting at any moment I might to explode. The three hours after dinner are free but strictly supervised with no option to go anywhere, do anything or talk to anyone. It was heavily suggested that the time after dinner be used to catch up on all the homework. Having nothing better to do I did as was suggested. Then before bed the last cup of pills.

Then the fourth night came.

I look into the cup then back up. The nurse is already gone. Once the pills are given they all disappear. Off to bed I suppose. I look down at the cup again. There are only three pills. The sleeping pill is gone. I take the three mechanically; it seems like every time it gets a little harder to swallow them. I hate their bitter coldness they leave in me. The silence of the night lengthens and what little light that was left from the window fades.

I sit on my bed then scoot back until my back is pressed against the wall. I tilt my head back to look at the stars. It's so quiet. My thoughts are so loud, my breathing, my heartbeat seeming to echo and magnify in the room until it's the only thing I can hear. Darkness enfolds everything. The pain in my chest. The silence. The loneliness. The emptiness. It begins to overwhelm me in the way only black of night can.

(a/n: for once my inspiration and ability actually decided to work together. This link leads to a pick that was inspired by the above paragraph. -http/ )

I bite my lip and begin to shudder with the sheer effort not to cry. I don't know why I feel like this. There is nothing to feel sad about. I try to convince myself that it's just because it's so late. -just because there's been so much work. -just because I've had no one to talk to for four days. But no matter what I tell myself, it makes no difference. I choke down a sob and bury my head in my knees. I feel like such a fool.

"Are you ok?"

I look up in the direction on the soft voice. Potter stands beside my bed. I didn't hear him approach. His face illuminated by the flickering flame of a stub of a candle; the shifting light moving across his face makes him all the more beautiful. I don't try to speak; I can't, I am certain that if I do I will cry and what is left of my pride will not allow that.

He sets the candle down on the desk and sits on the edge of the bed near my feet. I watch him wondering why he is still here. All my memories of him are filled with hate and jealousy. No matter how noble he is he can feel no less than dislike for me, at the most downright hatred. His hands twitch, almost curling then relaxing again. His eyes are locked on the bed sheet just above his hands. I watch him, trying to see his eyes through his hair.

I am no longer overwhelmed, my eyes ache but the tears are almost gone. I wonder if his presence has distracted my sorrow. I am not such a fool to not also suspect that it him that makes me feel better. Everything about him seems to draw me. I want to see his eyes.

He looks up at me and for a moment our eyes lock. My breath catches in my throat. Then he forces himself to look away.

"I should go…" he says softly.

He shifts his weight reluctantly. His eyes drift back toward me then flick away. It takes a moment for what he says to sink in. Once it does all I can comprehend is that I am going to be alone again. Something hot and wet slides down my cheek and I hurriedly wipe it away. I taste what's left of it on the edge of my mouth, warm and salty. I don't want to be alone… Another slips out and sears a trail along my cheek. I close my eyes as tightly as I can…As if that can really stop them.

My eyes open as I feel his hands grab my arms. He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly. I know I should push him away because this goes against everything in the past but I can't. In his arms I feel safe for the first time since I woke up. I can't feel the pain anymore. This is where I belong. I cling to him and bury my face into his shoulder. I give into my feelings and soak his nightshirt with my tears until there are no more left. Wipe my eyes and slowly pull away, blushing with embarrassment. He loosens his grip reluctantly but doesn't let me go.

I look down, "I'm sorry…I got your shirt's wet…"

"Don't worry about it." He replies softly.

I hesitantly look up, "…Thank you." I whisper.

His mouth twitches and manages to pull up into a slight smile, "…If you hadn't I would have." He looks away in embarrassment and wipes his eye roughly.

I hadn't noticed the glassy sheen of tears on his eyes before. It makes me feel better to know it wasn't just me. I open my mouth to speak then stop; knowing what I was going to ask is stupid. I watch his eyes silently as they watch mine and it dawns on me how very little it matters anymore.

I tentatively try again, "Do you have a pain in your chest…" I look down grabbing the clothe over my heart, clenching it in my hand, "here? Empty, aching…"

He nods and puts his hand over mine for a moment then quickly pulls back, his hand curling. He looks at it then back up at me, "but not now. For the first time since they woke me up…just looking at you makes me feel better." He blushes just slightly and looks away but almost as soon as he does his eyes are drawn back to mine.

I smile faintly for the first time since this ordeal started. "Why did you come over here anyway?"

"I felt….a pain, so intense I almost couldn't breathe. Somehow I knew it was your pain."

"You know, you shouldn't say things like that." I say it hesitantly, hoping he won't listen to me.

"Does it really matter anymore? Everything I thought I knew and felt; doesn't fit anymore. All that I really care about anymore is getting rid of the pain."

I nod, that's all I wanted to hear.


	7. New Notice

Lately my work on my novel has hit a block a writes block naturally, so I decided to try writing something for pleasure for a while. I was going to write something new but I realized that would be unfair so instead I'm going to try and finish this story. I have to warn you though, it's been years since I've read any of the Harry Potter books, never got past book four and never watched any of the movies, also I could only skim through the Veela stories because I was horrified by how bad I was, personal opinion there, granted. Anyway, I really am sorry, better late than never I suppose.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco pov.

Harry.

The sound of his name in mind left echos. They felt like echos of times before, all the times I had said that name, in my mind, out loud, but that have no root, no connection to a memory that I could recall. Yearning after those traces only made my head pound and filled me with a sense of loss that I couldn't place.

"Harry." It felt comfortable on my lips and it sounded, it sounded so sweet.

I squeezed his arm and hesitantly met his eyes, and begged him for what I could not ask.

"Harry."

He reached towards me and his fingers brushed against my neck, on that empty patch of skin that felt like it was missing something and stayed there. "Draco." He said roughly, his voice cracking, "Draco."

I pressed my hand over his. Part of me was scared and confused, it remembered only the past and all the hatred and violence that had passed between us. But, part of me wasn't, that part of my mind that was only the emptiness of a gaping wound. There was no reason to trust such a vague feeling with nothing to back it up, except that it felt more right than anything else. It felt like the only option.

"Why are they doing this?" Harry asked softly, not taking his eyes off mine. "It seems like they want to keep us apart but then why do they have us in the same room and why do they leave us alone at night? The whole scenario doesn't seem right."

I nodded, absently stroking his fingers with my own. "I don't think there was an accident on the train either." I hesitated then plunged on, "There's a empty space in my mind where I feel like something ought to be. I think that something is memories, three weeks of memories. I think someone used the Obliviate spell on us to wipe our memories."

Harry nodded, "It makes as much sense as anything but... I don't even remember the train really. My first memories before waking up here are from the Durdley's this summer. I think, whatever happened, must have started with me."

I felt myself nod just slightly but my mind was starting to get fuzzy with sleep. Even with the sleeping pills I hadn't been sleeping very well and suddenly I felt so relaxed and safe that it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.

Harry looked at me and smiled so gently, brushing a strand of hair out of my face, "I'll be back in a second." He carefully pulled his hand away and stood up disappearing around to the other side of the screen. Then the screen disappeared as he pulled it into the middle of the room. He pushed his desk out of the way then began shoving his bed over until it was pressed up against mine.

He sat down on his bed with a thump and grinned, holding his hand out. My hand seemed to reach out on it's own without a seconds hesitation. He laid down on his bed, pulling me down two and shifted so that he was laying at the very edge of his bed. I felt a sudden wave of embarrassment that filled my face with heat but shifted close the edge of the bed anyway. Harry smiled closed his eyes, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep.

He was so close to me that we could have pressed our foreheads together, we could have kissed. I gasped that the strange thought and pressed my free hand over my red face. I felt a surge of shame flood through me that I could even think something like that. If Harry knew he would hate me, hate me again anyway. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. I could never ever let that happen. Just the thought of it seemed worse than death. Nothing made sense anymore but, I hesitantly shifted our fingers until they laced together and, just for a second, squeezed gently; this was enough for right now.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco pov

A sound like the thunderclap of an angry god jolted me awake and I sat bolt upright. One of the nurses was staring at me, us, with what could only be horror. A tray lay on the ground, our breakfast splattered all over the floor and her white shoes as our pills rolled off away. She seemed to shake herself free of whatever stupor she had been in and quickly ran back out of the room. I only had time to glance at Harry before the nurse returned, dragging the other two nurses behind her.

"See for yourself." She said, gesturing towards us impatiently.

The other two nurses did look then looked each other and with a nod one hurried off back out the door. The other smiled brightly and clapped her hands, "Well then that was an exciting start to the day. I'll just get started cleaning this up while Susan goes and gets you breakfast again, hopefully she won't drop it this time." she forced a laugh as she bent down and scooped up the tray, handing back to Susan and sushing her off with an impatient wave of her hand. She pulled out her wand muttered a few spells in quick succession that had the mess cleaning up and in the garbage can in the blink of an eye, leaving the floor cleaner than it had been before. All the while she kept glancing up at us with narrowed eyes and pinched lips as if we had pissed our beds.

Harry moved to the edge of his bed, letting go of my hand. I hadn't even realized that we were still holding hands. Did we spent the whole night like that? I wondered. I opened and closed my hand a few times, my empty hand. It felt cold now. I quickly turned my back to Harry and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pressing my empty hand against my chest.

The nurse, Susan returned, walking so fast that the dishes clinked against each other with every step. She dropped the tray on the table and she ran back towards the office, where the pills were kept presumably. I walked over and picked up my plate and cup then returned to where I had been siting on my bed. I looked into my cup, most of the tea had splashed out. A quick examination showed that it had mostly splashed onto my toast, which I quickly pushed away.

More running footsteps approach the healers wing, the last nurse and behind her Dumbledore. He looks panicky but quickly smothers the expression under his normal one of good natured enthusiasm. "Good to see you both up, how are you feeling? All right in the general scheme of things?"

I just nod absently.

Harry puts his cup down on his plate with a clatter, "I'd like an explanation now; about why our memories were erased, what these pills are and most importantly, why everyone treats us as if we're going to explode without warning."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled in a distant sort of way, "Yes, I suspect you have a lot of questions." He grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the end of Harry's bed, he glanced at me and smiled warmly and gestured at me to move closer to him with the wave of his hand. I hesitantly walked to the end of my bed and sat on the corner farthest away from the old man. I never felt comfortable around him, for as long as I could remember I always felt like he could see all my weakness and fear and pitied me for it. Harry sat down right in front of the old man, then moved to my bed and snatched up my hand, holding absentmindedly as he turned all his attention Dumbledore. A flush of heat spread from my hand straight to my face and I turned my face away so that they couldn't see.

"I see..." Dumbledore said softly, fingering his beard, "Well, it wasn't my intention to keep it from the two of you forever. We just had to check some things, make sure you don't explode as you say." He grinned at his own joke and continued, "I suppose it all started with a potion that you were forced to take, Harry. It's an old one and illegal. It takes the DNA of a veela and forces the veela DNA to randomly combine with the drinkers DNA. The idea being that it would create a human/veela hybrid. The truth is that it's the sort of thing magic isn't made for which is why it has such a high failure rate, it kills about ninety five percent of those that ingest the potion. Unless the drinker already has veela heritage already in which the survival rates increase quite dramatically, but that's a new discovery." he smiled at me for some strange reason then turned back to Harry, "Any questions so far?"

Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't..." he shook his head, "What, I mean does this mean I'm part veela now? That's just stupid." he asked. "Who forced me to take the potion then?"

"No one important, poor man was quite frankly mad as a bag of ferrets, and shouldn't have been released from the psych ward but he was and here we are. Shall I continue?"

Harry put his glasses on and shrugged.

"Now Draco," he looked at me with a gleam in his eye.

I twitched, turning further away from him, only Harry's grip on me keeping me where I was.

"I took some time to go through your family tree, Draco. Veela heritage is highly coveted among the old families like yours because of the belief that they are the closest living relatives to the true elves and of course, their power and beauty. This has led to some exaggeration about veela blood content, to wit, your father is in fact around forty percent veela and your mother around a third which puts your inheritance of the blood somewhere in the middle. Plenty to reap the befits of the race, with fewer of the drawbacks.

"A bit of history is in order perhaps. The veela culture is ultimately organized around a hierarchy of power. The value of strength and of course the magical ability siren is valued above all else. Historically within the culture the women were the stronger sex, mentally at least, and men were the weaker. Strong women sought strong men and bound them to themselves, using the strength of their siren and the life bond to keep the male tied to them and to protect them against beasts, other men or women wishing to usurp them. It was very, very rare for a man to born with the strength to be the dominate partner and even rarer that a woman would be born predisposed to be the submissive weaker one of the pair, especially since her mother was likely to kill her as soon as it was discovered. So, when a male dominate appeared, he either took no mate or, more often than not, took another male for his mate.

"Modern mixed bloodlines, half-breed and mixed-blood with a blood percentage of less than half usually don't develop submissive or dominate traits excepting rare cases."

Dumbledores tone didn't change, he didn't look at me but I knew that he knew. He knew my shame, the thing that my father hates me most for, for being so incredibly weak that even with diluted blood I became a submissive. I hate myself for it but that's never changed anything.

I heard him draw a breath to speak and tensed myself for what was to come.

"Draco is one of those rare cases." He said gently then looked at Harry, "But, you're a rare case as well, my boy. Not only did you survive a potion that kills most that take it but the resulting hybridization made you a dominate half-blood veela. The two of you," he took a deep breathe and let it out slowly, "ran into each other on the train and-"

Harry gripped my hand hand so hard it hurt.

"-it appears that you, Harry, claimed Draco as your mate, most likely using a mixture of force and siren."

He let go of my hand, "W-what?"

"No." I said, shaking my head, "no. It's not true. Harry would never, he- we're enemies. He could never look at me like and, and if it were true my Father would kill me."

Dumbledore said, "Your Father has been arrested for illegally attempting to seal your memories against your will because of that. It's hard to say what he might have tried to do if he hadn't been arrested then."

I felt numb, my thoughts ran through my mind like molasses, "He's in prison?"

Dumbledore nodded.

A wave of relief swept through my body that was immediately followed by a wave of shame for feeling like that.

"The pills you have been taking are regularly taken my full blooded veela and those with strong veela traits. They suppress the veela instincts, and in the case of you two since your strongest traits result from potions, one of the pills suppresses potions whose effects can't be undone. The small white one is a psychiatric drug that will stabilize your violent mood swings."

"Why?" Harry asked hoarsely, "even if everything you said is true why did you do this to me, erasing my memories, lying to me, and those pills, why?"

Dumbledore nodded and turned in his seat signaling the nurse by the door. She stepped outside and appeared to be speaking to someone. Then the door was pulled all the way open and Granger and Weasley walked in. Granger took one look at Harry and ran over to him, grabbing him up in hug that nearly knocked him off the bed.

A foreign twinge of jealousy echoed through my mind I tried to push it away.

"Thank god, you're alright!" Hermione said, gripping him even harder.

Weasley following behind just gave Harry a nod. He glanced at me with venom in his eyes.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked.

Hermione let go of him and stepped back, "The Headmaster thought it would be best if we talked to you about what happened."

She looked meaningfully at Ron and said, "Right."

"It was really horrible, Harry." she said through a flurry blinks as she tried not to cry, "I knew something was wrong that first day and told the Headmaster. We started watching you but by the time we realized what was going on things were so out of control we had to take drastic steps."

Dumbledore nodded, "I got permission from the ministry to take you by force and wipe your memories. We should have been keeping better watch of you from the beginning if we had caught this at the start it wouldn't have gotten as bad as it did. The only thing I can offer is apologies and that the medicine you take will be supplied free of charge for the rest of your life."

Harry said, "But-"

Hermione continued, "You were killing each other. Anyone could see that it was only a matter of time before one of you ended up dead and then the other would probably kill themselves. This was the only way to protect you."

"My memories-?"

"It was a permanent erasure," Dumbledore said, "your memories of that time are gone, forever."

Hermione sat down next to him, "It was only two months, that's no time at all if it means being healthy and safe and alive right?"

Harry nodded distantly.

"And-a-and if you still want to have a relationship with Malfoy-"

Ron snorted and Hermione shot him a look that could burn a hole through a steel plate.

"-you still can, you just have to start over and do it properly this time."

"Or not." Ron muttered.

Hermione stood up and advanced on Ron until she was an inch from his face, "We talked about this, Ron, what he chooses to do is up to him so, shut-up."

Ron stepped back holding his hands up placatingly, "Right, right, sorry." He scowled and looked at Harry, "Its up to you, right?"

Harry dropped his head in his hands, "This whole thing is bollocks. Total and complete bollocks. First off, I can't remember so why should I want to redo a relationship that, it seems to me, was caused by that bloody potion, I've never fancied a boy before, not going to start now."

Ron grinned slapping his shoulder, "Excellent." he gave Hermione a gloating look.

"Everything I've felt is just a side effect." he muttered to himself. He stood up, "Headmaster, I think I've caught up enough on my school work that I should be able to keep up in class and my friends will help me with the rest. So I'd like to go back to my own dorm now. I'll take the pills, you don't have to worry about that. I just want to get out of here, alright?"

Dumbledore gave him one of his peculiar knowing looks then smiled slightly, "Fine, yes, go ahead. After classes though I want you to go to study room J in the library, one of the teachers or your tutor will meet you there to catch you up properly."

"Thanks." Harry said, grabbing his clothes from the bedside table and heading to the bathroom. Draco said nothing, neither did Dumbledore or the nurses.

It wasn't until the door clicked shut behind the trio that Dumbledore spoke, "Do you want to leave as well, Draco?"

I felt strangely hollow and also as if I might cry. "Why?" I said softly, "I haven't got any friends. Now that my father's in prison no one will listen to me, some might beat seven shades of shit out of me though. I only existed because of my father and I didn't even exist to him. I haven't got anyone."

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "I know you aren't the type to show his true emotions so when you do... I worry about you, boy. You've never had any good strong ties. The connection you had to Harry was probably ten times more intense than any other you've ever had, even with your father. That connection shaped you and the sudden severance of that connection has left your mind and probably your body in shock. In fact, the reason we held you for so long without telling you anything was to see if the connection you two forged would override even the drugs and loss of memory and it did, at least a little. The simple fact that you find comfort from each other and seek each others touch, even unconsciously, shows the strength of that bond. And now, how do you feel now, Draco?"

I hesitated but there was no reason to remain silent, "I feel like a puzzle that's missing a piece, it's only one but it's important, I think."

Dumbledore nodded, "For someone who has never known love, not even the love of a mother, it is very important but it is a thing between two people and can't be forced or taken. I believe that the connection you two shared was real and has at least some basis. But who knows, I'm just a daft old man."

I shake my head and rub my eyes, they're wet, "Thank you. You're kind but, you're kind to everybody."

"I act kind to everyone, it's true, it's my duty as Headmaster, but that doesn't mean I like every one of my students. In fact there are a few that I quite wish I could smack some sense into sometimes, that's a secret." He tapped the side of his nose with a grin, "I do care about about you though, boy. You've frustrated me at times and made me sad at others but I knew that you weren't a bad person and never would be." He stood up and patted me on the head like a small child.

"Can I stay here, in the infirmary for a while?" I sniffed.

He smiled at me, "For a few days more. Then we'll see about a transfer to another dorm, I don't think Slytherin will be safe for you anymore. I've talked with the prefects and dorm teachers for both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and they both said they'd take you."

I choked down a sob, "Th-thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

Draco pov

The Ravenclaw dorm was nice but I could feel the pressure that existed there as well and I didn't want anymore pressure in my life. I was so tired of being pushed in one direction or the other, no, Ravenclaw wasn't for me. Hufflepuff though was so relaxed the people their smiled more and someone was was always laughing. It drained the tension out of me. I could breath there.

The prefect guided me to the dorm for my year and an empty bed at the far end of the room. Some of the other guys in the dorm came and introduced themselves. One of them, Jeremy was his name, waited until all the others had trickled back down to the common room before introducing himself. He had brown hair that looked bristly and dark eyes and he kept fidgeting as he waited to talk to me. His whole face turned redder than even I had ever seen Weasley's face and he asked all at once, "The other blokes wanted me to ask you if you were interesting in other guys or just Potter?"

It took me by surprise so I didn't answer at first and, almost impossibly, his face turned even redder.

"It wasn't my idea to ask," he blurted, "Some of the guys were nervous so we drew straws and I lost but I've always had bad luck in that sort of thing, but it wasn't like I didn't want to ask you it's just I didn't want you to think I'm homophobic cause I'm not, truth is-" he seemed to run out of air and then after a pause gasped, some of the red leaving his face as he caught his breathe.

I smiled and then before I could stop myself I started laughing, so hard I could hardly breathe. Jeremy just stood there and waited, a happy, slightly puzzled look on his face.

"Truth is," I said when I had gotten myself under control, "I've never fancied anyone in my whole life. I don't know if I fancy Potter because I don't remember anything that happened and that's all I can tell you."

He grinned, "Spiffing. I'll tell 'em all they're being a bunch a whiny pussy's then. Well, not exactly that, more political like but that general idea."

"Shove off, Jeremy!" A girl's voice ordered quickly followed by the owner who pushed him out of the way. Behind her was another girl who finished the job by propelling Jeremy out of the door way. He half twisted and waved before she shut the door on him.

"Wotcha!" the first girl said with a grin, she was short and bouncy with a blond bobbed hairstyle. The other girl was a bit taller with red hair that was wavy and shoulder length with several brightly colored plastic clippys holding back the bangs. They were both cute girls and both exuded and air of almost unbelievable enthusiasm.

The blond grabbed my hands in hers, "My name's Daisy and this is Tulip." The other girl ran up and put her hands over Daisy's. They were both grinning so infectiously that I started to smile in response.

"Of course," Daisy continued, "that's not our real names, they're nicknames and we'd love for you to use them, but anyway, ever since we heard you'd be moving in we've so been looking forward to meeting you."

Tulip said, "Let's sit."

"Yes, lets" Daisy said and the two dragged him over to his bed, still scattered with my clothes and school books, and sat down on either side of on the edge of the bed.

"We heard what happened to you and it's so sad." Tulip said.

"Harry Potter's been going around acting like nothing happened and his friend Ron Weasley has been telling everyone that what happened was caused by some illegal potion Harry was forced to drink and we think that isn't fair." Daisy said.

"Cause they don't say anything about what happened to you so it makes it sound like you took advantage or something and that's so not true." Tulip said, squeezing his hand with a sad puppy dog expression on her face.

"Our focus of study is on magical sentient races, we've studied the veela's quite a lot and know what happened was his fault more than yours. Once you were claimed by him you had about as much control of the situation as a leaf blown by the wind really."

"Yeah," Tulip said, "Cause recent studies of the whole process of claiming in veela culture has studied the chemical changes in the brain of submissive's after being claimed and it's really similar to when people are put into a highly suggestible hypnotic state."

"Which is fine for hundred percent veela's," Daisy chimed in, "cause that's how they've always been so it's normal for them but it's really unfair for a mixed blood especially for less than half, which is what you are."

I opened my mouth to answer but Tulip simply continued the line of thought that her and Daisy seemed to be telepathically sharing, "Besides, you deserve so much better. Not that Harry Potter's a bad catch, cause his isn't, savior of the world right? But, he didn't treat you right and if he's going to be a prick you ought to find someone better."

I said, "But I'm not good enough for-"

"Pish!" Daisy said dismissively, "Not good enough, bullocks, am I right, Tuly?"

"Hundred-percent."

"You are are smart-"

"-clever-"

"-super good at Potions-"

"And bloody gorgeous!" they finished in unison.

"I-I don't know about that last one but I am good at Potions." I said flushing. I was good, really good, I tended a downplay my abilities, did worse on the tests on purpose, did slight misapplications in Potion mixing one out of every fifteens potion I did. Father wanted me follow in his footsteps, to work in finance and politics at which I would probably be as good as he was, mediocre. Even though I could be a good Potions analyst, better than I could be at anything else, being a scientist wasn't a good enough career for a Malfoy. Perhaps, now, I could study Potions as much as I wanted.

"But you know, you really are lovely to look at. You're just more, girl pretty, than boy pretty, but lots of people love that. Tulip and I think it's wonderful."

"Yep. You could make just about anybody fancy you with your face so we think you ought to just fall in love again, properly this time."

I laughed, "You make it sound so easy."

"Well," Daisy said, "it can't be that hard, tons of people do it all the time."

"Anyways, we're friends now so you can talk to us anytime about anything, alright?" Tulip said.

"Friends? We're friends?" I asked softly.

"Course, dummy!" Daisy punched my arm playfully, "It's not that hard ya know. To make friends."

That night, with no light and only the sound of the soft breathing of the others in the room, the feeling of the emptiness in my chest felt amplified because there were no distractions, no life to get in the way. I rolled over on my side and closed my eyes. I put my hand on the edge of the bed and filled my empty hand with another's the ghost of hand that wasn't really there and felt like cold air but if I concentrated on it hard enough I could remember when it was real and pretend that it was real now and as soon as I do, sleep pulls me down.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco pov

As I approached the dining hall I heard two sets of running feet coming up behind me and Tulip and Daisy grabbed me by the arms, one on either side.

"Wotcha, Dray!" Daisy bubbled.

"Morning." Tulip said with a yawn.

I smiled automatically, "Good morning."

The sound from the dining hall hit us like a wave and the bright light from the skylights made me blink and shield my eyes for a second. Daisy didn't even pause, towing me and Tulip behind her like a tug.

As we passed a clump of students someone muttered under their breath, "Bitch."

Tulip's head instantly shot around, "Cock head!" The whole room dropped into an uneasy silence but she just gave them the two fingered salute with vicious look on her face.

"Cut it, Tuly, they're just chattin' shit." Daisy said in exasperation and finished her tow, dumping us at an empty spot on the Hufflepuff table. "You've got such a hot fuse, Tuly."

"What do you expect me to do? They've been calling him that this whole week and I'm not going to just sit by and let them treat him like that, it's harassment."

"It's alright, Tuly." I said softly, my eyes were already starting their daily wander to stare at Harry Potter.

"No it's not! Just because you won't speak up for yourself doesn't mean it's ok for them to insult you." Tulip said angrily.

Daisy made a gesture out of the corner of my eye, "You're gawping again. Why do you do it? He won't even look at you."

"And if Ron Weasley flips you the bird one more time I'm gonna smash him in the damn goofy's." Tulip said.

"You stare at him every chance you get, why, Dray? Aren't you just hurting yourself?" Daisy asked.

I shrugged, "How can something hurt when, as far as mind is concerned, it didn't happen? It hurts all the time really, it's looking at him that makes me feel better, so I do it, any chance I get. There's no draw back as far as I can see."

"I suppose..." Daisy said reluctantly.

"You should just shag him and get it over with then." Tulip said in a sulky voice.

Daisy interrupted, "Tuly, you're being a wanker."

Tulip blushed, sticking out the tip of her tongue between the teeth and giving us a silly little grin.

"He looks terrible lately, though, don't you think?" Daisy asked.

"U-huh, he looks like he hasn't slept for ages."

They exchanged looks and giggled then looked at me, "Dray," Daisy said in a giggly whisper, "you said you can only sleep if you think him right, so what if it's the same for him, right? Then he can't sleep because he's trying not to think of you right? So this must be his punishment!"

"Serves him right too." Tulip said malevolently, "He should have given the you two a chance. If worked out that'd be spiffing and if it didn't maybe it work the feelings out or your systems right? Win-win, I think."

I shrugged, "I think... I going to talk with the Headmaster after breakfast then go down to the potions laboratory."

Daisy made a tisking noise, "It's our first day off together and you're going to play potions?"

"Sorry," I said smiling apologetically, "It's just for half the day. Then we'll do whatever you want."

"Alright then, if we're not in the dorm then we'll be in the library." Tulip said.

I nodded, watching Potter, who was looking unusually pale and tired, but keeping half my attention focused on Dumbledore. When he got up to leave, I followed him.

"Is there something I can help you with, Draco?" He asked as he walked down the hall. There was no way he could have seen me following him and he never looked back but he still knew. I shook my head in disbelief, the old man was full of tricks.

"I wanted to talk to you you about something, Headmaster."

"Come to my office then and we'll talk." He said, not breaking his stride, "Have you adjusted to the new dorm?"

I smiled to myself just thinking about it, "It's nice, everyone is, well even if they don't like me much they're polite and kind and never rude or cruel. It's like a different planet from the Slytherin dorm."

"That's good. I often see you with those two girls, Daisy and Tulip, I believe they call themselves." He said the password for his portrait and stepped through, I followed quickly behind.

"They've sort of adopted me, we're friends." I said, "Or at least that's what they tell me. I like them."

At the top of the stairs he gestured to one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. I didn't feel like sitting down so I just leaned on the back of the chair.

Dumbledore dropped into his chair and leaned back, his hands linked over his chest, "So what's bothering you, my boy?"

I hesitated and looked over at the other empty chair, "I've been having dreams and I think they're memories from the three weeks that were supposed to be erased. They're just fragments but I thought I should tell you in case it means...something."

Dumbledore sat up and leaned forward, "Well, it's certainly true that even the most perfectly cast oblivate can miss bits of memory but are you sure it's not something else you're remembering from some other time?"

I nodded.

"But how can you be sure? You said they were only fragments."

I hesitated and felt myself begin to blush, "...B-because, because I was a virgin before all that happened."

"Oh." Dumbledore, looked hurriedly down at his desk, his hands absently fumbling with a stack of papers. "I suppose that would be fairly conclusive then. It's nothing more than fragments. The more powerful the memory is, the more the mind tries to hang onto it, that's all. Are these dreams bothering you, do you need any sleep potions?"

I smiled to myself, "No, I just wanted to make sure it wasn't anything important. I don't know a lot about memory loss spells, but I suppose I wouldn't, they're highly restricted and controlled by the Ministry."

I left Dumbledore's office and walked slowly towards the Dungeons, taking mostly back ways and long routes to avoid running into anyone, especially as I got closer to the dungeons, too many people I didn't want to run into.

The dreams. They were another thing that made sleep easier, looking forward to them even though it was a guilty, embarrassed feeling. In truth I didn't know how to deal with them. And yet, for all that my mind was repulsed and embarrassed by the dreams, my body wasn't. Even though the dreams are usually a jumbled mix, a smell, a sound, a feeling, a touch, one after another, all unrelated and sometimes feeling like they may have come from different events; but it was enough to make me wake up every morning so hard that I can cum with only the slightest touch. Much like everything in my life now that involves that event, I find it easier to just accept it.

I stopped in front of the door to the potions lab the Professor was lending to me and pulled out my key, unlocking it, slipping inside and relocking the door behind me.

All along the many counters were cauldrons of various sizes, three were bubbling and seething gently with various colored potions in them. They were the kinds of potions that all students would be expected to be able to make when applying for university. Snape was monitoring there progress and would test and rate them for my application. They were just a light exercise and a distraction. I checked the progress of the potions, adding 3 grams of Ginger hair flower to one, changing the rotational spin of another and stirring the last ten times, one count per stir with a jade rod. Then I turned and removed the illusion and locking spell on the bench provided for a bench and opened the top, revealing a six inch cavity. I carefully lifted out the small cauldron, a tray of ingredients and my notebook. _Veluiciuos Drucounious. _ It was the potion that changed Harry and I though no one told us that. It wasn't too hard to figure out and a few late night study sessions with Snape's private collection was all it took to find it. It took a bit longer to steal all the ingredients I needed because many of them were rare and expensive and his stocks had already been depleted. I slipped money into his desk from my funds, more than enough to pay for the ingredients and restock. It was Father's money and he gave me far more than I could ever use without being wasteful which, despite what people seemed to think of me, I found quite abhorrent.

I made the potion once, it was the trickiest I had ever attempted but it was hard to get solid data on on if from it's creation because it takes place in such a short space of time. However that's not the important thing. What's important is to understand how each ingredient effects the other and then how, when all together, they interacted within the body. Only with a through understanding of that information can a antidote be made for a potion.


	12. Chapter 12

Draco pov

The bell rang, cutting off Snape in mid word. He caught my eye and motioned me to come over. He went over to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. I finished putting my books and scrolls into my bag and walked over to his desk.

"My personal test of your Smoothing Potion showed it to be perfect."

I smiled and nodded, of course.

"So I sent it in to be tested by the Pilfor laboratory." His mouth twitched ever so slightly upward.

"What?" I asked in disbelief, the Pilfor Labs produced the highest quality potions in the world. The Ministry used them to test the quality and safety of all potions put onto the market.

"I just received the results and I wanted to show them to you. According to their tests, your potion was 99.85% pure and perfectly made. That's better quality than the best Smoothing potion that's on the market right now, Luci's, which regularly achieves only a 99.05% and they water it down, anyone who looks at the bottles can see that."

"Really? It was that good?" I asked.

"Better. I always knew you were capable of more. You have a great future. I'll send the rest of your potions once they're finished as well. I expect much the same results. With such an analysis of your potions you should be able to get into any university you wish. "

"Thank you." I said, "That would be wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow."

I grabbed my bag and hurried out the door, eager to get to the dining hall and tell Daisy and Tulip.

"Hey."

I nearly jumped out of my skin, jerking around to see who it was. It was Jeremy, his hair looking more scruffy than usual.

He held his hands up apologetically, "I didn't mean to scare you. I was hoping we could talk maybe."

"Were you waiting for me?" I asked.

He blushed and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, "I just, you're always with Tulip and Daisy so I never get a chance to talk with you alone. I thought we could talk while we were walking to dinner... maybe, if you don't mind anyway."

I shrugged and hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, "Sure."

He skipped a step to catch up to me, his face still faintly red. For a long time he walked in silence then, as soon as we were out of the dungeon area, he started speaking. "I just, I wanted to say that, I think you're really fit and I rather fancy you and I wondered if you might go out with me?"

I stopped in my tracks. Jeremy stopped a few paces ahead and I could see his ears turning red.

He continued, "You probably don't think much of me so I understand if you say no."

"That's not it." I hesitated, "I think your a great person but, because of the event and that potion, I can't think of anyone else but Potter. I haven't got a choice in the matter. Until I sort things out with him, all I can offer is friendship."

"But I don't have to give up hope right?" He asked cautiously, turning so I could see his face.

"No, you don't have to give up hope but I would let your hopes get to high either." I warned.

A hesitant smile twitched onto his face, "Right. Well, we should get on to the dining hall."

I nodded and matched step with him, listening as he nervously chattered about the things that had happened during his day. When we reached the dining hall he went to sit with his friends, glancing back at me and waving. He was so awkward. I gave him a warm smile before hunting down Daisy and Tulip.

Tulip solved the mystery by standing up and waving frantically at me. I hurried over and grabbed her arm, pulling her back down, but I couldn't stop myself from laughing.

"What was that all about!" Daisy hissed.

Tulip was giggling and practically bouncing with excitement.

"What, was what all about?" I asked innocently.

Daisy rolled her eyes, "Jeremy and you coming to dinner together, looking all cozy with each other and he was blushing all the way up to his ears."

Tulip said through her giggles, "He's pretty shaggable." She choked down her laughs and said, "Just I didn't think he was duke, ya, know?"

"What?" I asked.

"You know, that he fancied blokes."

"Well," I said slowly, "it seems he at least fancies me."

Tulip squealed and I slapped my hand over her mouth.

Daisy grabbed my hand, "So, what did you say?"

"I told him that as soon as I sorted my feelings out with Harry Potter, we could give it a try."

"Oh bother Potter, you should just give Jeremy a try right now."

I smiled briefly, "That wouldn't be kind to Jeremy. Harry is still all I think of, he consumes me. If I went out with Jeremy now, I would only be making him a replacement for Harry."

Daisy squeezed my hand, "You're kind. I bet no one in this whole room would have known how kind you really are."

I said, "I don't have anything to prove to anyone now. I don't have to live up to my father's standards either. He always said that kindness was a weakness."

Tulip engulfed me in a crushing hug, "No it's not, it's wonderful. And-so-are-you!"

I managed to pry her off me and steer the conversation away from my love life and onto more mundane things like homework, teachers and Daisy's new hobby of broadening my vocabulary, by teaching me slang.

I split with them after dinner and headed down to the dungeons to check on my potions. They were hardly out of sight when a hand reached out and grabbed my arm. I knew who it was immediately, because instead of feeling afraid or even startled, a sense of calm spread through me like a drug.

"Harry."

I could feel the shiver that went through his body through his hand. I could hardly see him in the shadows. He kept shifting backwards as if he wanted to bolt.

"I just..." He choked.

I covered his hand with my own. He shuddered and jerked his hand away, twisting away so violently that he almost fell as bolted down the hallway. His pounding footsteps echoed long after he was gone but I stayed there until even the sound faded. I walked down to my lab running my fingers over and over the place where he had grabbed me. The worst part was that I didn't even question it, everything about Harry made me feel like I was going mad.

I locked the door behind me and leaned my forehead against the door for a second, pushing my mind back into some semblance of order so that I could think. I went over to the bench and pulled out everything and set it on the table, pulling over a microscope, magically enhanced to increase the magnification to double its manufactured specs.

I scraped some cheek cells out of my mouth, smeared them onto a slide, stained them and slid them under the lens. After a few seconds of fumbling they came into focus. A magical light kept them from drying out so I was able to observe them dividing. The cells easily reproduced at twice the rate of my control samples from Tulip and Daisy. Rapid recovery, healing elements showed up in the saliva as well but those were the only effects of the potion that I could observe. Most of the changes caused by the potion seemed to be psychological behavior changes. Part of that was a dramatic increase of testosterone which would explain the mood swings and increase of violence. By using blood and skin cells sampled both before and after I reduced the dosage of my medication I estimated the increase and change in cellular behavior when the medication was totally gone. Now the challenge was to figure out what mix of ingredients would act as a catalyst to remove the foreign veela DNA from all the cells of the body. Luckily there are only a handful of ingredients that have been shown to be able to manipulate cellular DNA without damaging the cell structure. I had narrowed them down to just the Enomena mold spore which would have to be combined with veela DNA and something else, maybe many other something else's, to complete it. Luckily I had a two other potion antidote equivalents to what I was trying create, a love potion antidote and a disfigurement antidote.

I pulled out the slide and grabbed a test tube from the rack, test potion 23f, and applied a drop to the slide then slid it back under the microscope. The cells growth slowed and then stopped all together. I sighed and grabbed my quill, jotting down the results. There was still time and fifteen more samples to test.


	13. Chapter 13

Draco pov

I filled a dropper of the strangely translucent, purple fluid and, hesitated. The tests on the rats had been conclusive, the potion worked and there were no signs of any side effects even two weeks later. It had been rather remarkable actually.

Rats, especially those bed to be familiars, are especially prone to respond to magic and potions as part of that subset so, like muggle lab rats, a specific magically inclined breed of rat is used and prefered above all others in the testing of spells, charms and potions that are targeted for human use.

The one _Veluiciuos Drucounious _I made, I administered to twelve different rats, six male, six male. I would have done more for a larger sample size but there wasn't enough potion and I didn't dare give less or I risked skewing the results. I kept them in the closet of the potions lab. I had planned to keep them all on the back shelves, each in their separate cages, I had thought that would be enough but I was wrong. As soon as the potion finished taking effect, killing five of the rats in the process, they became wildly violent. The began throwing themselves against the glass to try and get to the rats in the other tanks, to mate with them, to kill them, I could only guess. I had to block their line of sight and create sound and smell barriers around each tank. Only then did they calm down but they were still on edge as if they could still sense one another. Their blood chemistry was eerily similar to my own. The rats that were killed by the potion, when dissected, showed massive brain trauma caused by massive chemical cocktail of hormones that was too much for the rat's brains to deal with. Somehow though, the others managed better and, statistically, better than human's fared when taking the stuff. I could see why they potion was made though, the aggression and power of the veela in part human host would create a truly frightening berserker warrior

The most promising potion that I had concocted, that showed positive results on all of my skin and blood samples was translucent and purple and smell like blood. I dosed the first three rats in increments, just a drop at a time. Blood work showed a gradual decrease in the amount of testosterone in the blood and the cell turnover. The new potion worked just a little faster than the veela DNA could reproduce within the cells, gradually removing the potion from the system which would be the safest way, to avoid the kind of shock to the system that the original potion caused.

I hard treated all the rats except one to keep for regular blood comparisons. All body systems had returned to normal, all hormone and other brain chemicals had returned to normal and cell turnover rate was normal. Two weeks later and there had been no signs of any side effects. I knew that any proper potion trials should be done for months and not just on rats but other animals, apes last of all and all test animals should be monitored for at least six months to a year to check for side effects, I knew this but the feeling of desperation twitching through my mind wouldn't let me.

I picked up the dropper again and squeezed two drops out onto a slide and licked it off. The taste made me gag and it took all I had to keep my stomach down. As I pulled over my notebook as wave of vertigo hit me so hard I almost blacked out and was barely able to sit down before my legs gave out. I sat there, I don't now how long though it felt like an eternity, while it felt like the whole world was spinning. When it finally stopped I decided that that method, would not work. The potion was absorbed through the lining of the cheek and entered the blood stream too quickly. Even though it was only two drops.

I would have to ask Snape if I could borrow his potion encapsulation machine, a slow release gelled potion capsule, absorbed through the stomach lining would slow the intake rate. I would have to work on a convincing interest in learning how to make potion caps though. If I went to a University for potions I'd have to learn at some point so it was necessary but not necessarily interesting. I checked my watch and quickly started packing up my things. I had promised Tulip and Daisy I would meet up with them in the library and help them with their class work. I don't know how much help I could be though, other than Potions, all the grades in my other classes had taken a nosedive because my little project had taken up so much of my free time.

I locked the door behind me and hurried up the steps and out of the dungeons; I had taken a handful of steps when I felt a heavy hand fall on my shoulder. I stopped, I had no choice, that hand held me, heavier than stone. I could hear more people behind me, shifting, a whisper, a snigger of laughter. I shivered.

"Hello, bitch, we've been looking for you."

The hand slowly spun me around. I saw pieces of robes, colors, mostly Gryffindor and Slytherin which was surprising in it of itself but before I could even begin to take in more the owner of the hand used his other to belt me across the face to hard I fell backwards, cracking my head on the stone floor. My head flooded with pain and my vision swam. I heard them moving, surrounding me. They all seemed to hesitate for a moment then one of them moved, kicking me in the back. That seemed to be the signal as the rest quickly joined in.

My body acted on its own, curling into a ball, covering my face with my arms. My mind was filled with pain and fear. Someone's boot caught my chin, jerking me backwards. Another boot took that opportunity to kick me in the gut. My stomach, unhappy from the potion, took the opportunity to empty itself. I tried to cover my mouth but my arm was slow and heavy with dull throbbing pain. I twisted and threw up once, twice until I was only gagging empty air.

"Shit." one of them said.

"Let's get out of here."

They turned and ran. I couldn't make my body move until I couldn't hear them anymore. I tried to get up. My hand pressed in the pool of liquid and slipped. I fell back. I lifted my hand towards me hand, I had to blink several times before my eyes would focus. Red and... slick, it smelled like the potion. I blinked again my my eyes wouldn't focus. Somewhere in the fog of my head my brain told me it must be blood. Well, blood, that was fine. The world went black.

Hands squeezed mine, strange rough bed cloths and sheets, the smell of antiseptic... and tired, so tired.

One of the hands tightened, "Look, Daisy! He's waking up!"

"Shush, Tuly!" the other hissed, "He needs his rest."

Yes, that sounded wonderful.

Hands touch mine like an electric shock and nudged me awake. I slowly opened my eyes, it was dark, I could see the rows of windows across from my bed, the infirmary. I knew those windows well. I turned my head towards the one holding my hand, a familiar touch. I could see the shadows and outlines of his face, Harry Potter, I thought it was him but, I hadn't known it. The potion's effects most likely.

"Are you ok?" he asked hoarsely.

I could feel his hand trembling.

"It's my fault isn't it? I've heard what they call you..." he looked down at the floor, "I've told them to stop but they talk when I'm not around."

I smiled, "You can't solve everything, Harry."

"Why is it-?"

I felt his hand start to pull away and tightened my grip. "Harry, what do you dream about?" I felt him stiffen but he stopped pulling away, "Dumbledore said that with the obliviate spell even the most perfect casting will leave fragments of the destroyed memories, the most powerful ones that the person's mind doesn't want to forget. What do you dream about?"

I heard his breathing hitch and his hands twitched but he didn't speak.

"You...dream of hurting me, don't you? Don't look so surprised," I smiled at his expression, "I've asked around, picked up pieces of the story. You know it's not your fault, it's part of the veela, you couldn't control it, you couldn't have stopped it." He started to pull away again and squeezed as hard as I could so that he'd have to pull me with him if he want to leave, "There's no point in feeling guilty about something that I can't even remember, as far as my mind is concerned that part of it all is just a story, a rumor I heard from other people."

He hesitated and stepped closer to the bed, "What do you dream about then, if not all the horrible things I did to you?"

I smiled, feeling as if I might cry, "I dream about you loving me."

"Why?" he choked, "how can you when I-?"

"Idiot. You know me, better than most people, I'm not a stranger to pain and cruelty; but no one's ever loved me before, how could I forget that?"

"But _I _can't forget what I've done to you. Every time I look at you-" his words strangled in his throat and he started to pull away again and this time I let him go.

I curled up in the bed pressing my knees to my chest. It was just like him to remember how he hurt someone and feel guilty about it but, I felt a flower of pain blossom in my chest, to not remember any piece of our love, however twisted it was, hurt. I sniffled and wiped my eyes, burying my face in the pillow. My father would have had such a fit if he knew how I was acting now, like some stupid twelve year old girl crying over a broken heart but my father would have never allowed me to fall in love. I cried myself dry and carefully sat up, pouring myself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed.

My whole body ached even with all the healing spells put on me and the potions I could still taste in my mouth. I shuddered as I remembered what happened, what they did to me. I had thought I had cried all the tears out but a few more escaped at the memory. I hugged my arms to my chest. I tried to push away the wave of fear that threatened to overwhelm me by thinking of anything else. Anything.

The blood. I had vomited blood hadn't I? That was important but I suspect that it was caused by the trauma of the attack, the potion I made weakened the bonds of the foreign veela DNA within the cells of the body so, while it was in my system, all the cells of my body would be unstable and prone to damage. Thus every time they hurt me the damage was magnified from what it would normally be. It would be even worse with me because I was born part veela. There was a strong possibility that once the foreign veela DNA was completely removed the potion might start attacking my inherited veela DNA and that could kill me. But if I left even a single cell in my body with the foreign veela DNA it would eventually replicate and spread back throughout my body. It was such a fine line but I would walk it, I had to. I had to.


End file.
